


if you never shoot, you'll never know.

by junfhongs



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-10-25 17:57:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 28,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10769448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junfhongs/pseuds/junfhongs
Summary: Since Akira was so obsessed with bringing out the light in him, Akechi could revel in the darkness that made Akira just a bit morerealto him.





	1. 02/15 - 02/16

** 02/15 – 02/16 **

It was the day after Valentines', the dumbest capitalist celebration of the year, when Akira stepped out to flip the door sign at the end of the day.

Instead he saw Akechi Goro across the small street, and Akechi looked up at him with eyes of pure… nothing. He was as unreadable as ever, but that was enough to spur Akira into action, walking forward and pulling Akechi to his feet.

"I… won't ask," Akira started, and Akechi nodded as some way of showing his gratitude. Akira let go of his hand and led him into the cafe, flipping the sign before he could forget or at least before someone would accidentally walk in and see someone who _should_ have been a ghost, someone who was assumed dead or missing for the past 2 months.

 _I won't ask,_ Akira reminded himself. _He'll come to it eventually,_ he tried to convince himself.

Akechi settled into a booth, the one closest to the door facing away from it, to give himself the best cover should anyone decide to walk in anyway. Akira went to the coffee siphon, glad to have left enough for a cup and a half in the pot. He prepared the cup in silence, but he was hyperaware of the other presence in the small cafe.

Akechi shifted in his seat. He coughed once and used the sleeve of the ratty jacket he was wearing to cover his mouth. He repeated that pattern again and again until Akira turned around to walk back to him. Akechi then corrected his posture and stared straight into the space in front of him, eyes settling on nothing in particular. It was a mockery of the silent confidence he once held, the famous detective that he once was, and Akira was having none of it.

The man—no, just a _boy_ —he saw before him was Akechi Goro, someone who was endlessly fucked over by society even as he tried to gain acceptance and affection from someone who had no heart. He was also a ruthless murderer who took the lives of people dear to Akira's friends, and it was difficult to swallow that information even if he knew that he was incapable of committing such crimes now. It was difficult because the boy dressed in the deepest black that he feared in the belly of that long-gone ship couldn't possibly be the same person who was drowning in his mismatched clothes and was warming his hands by a cup of coffee right in front of him.

"So?" Akechi asked. His voice had the same edge as it did when he tried riling Akira up before, trying to get anything other than a cool stare and silent acceptance, understanding even. Akira accepted the truth about Akechi, accepted the fact that he pointed a gun at Akira's forehead and _pulled the damn trigger,_ and even tried reaching out to him again. _What kind of idiot would even do that?_

Akira wouldn't budge. Akechi was halfway through his cup of coffee when Akira reached out to him and pressed the back of his hand against his forehead. He frowned. "You're burning up. Come with me."

"Wait, what—"

"Why did you come here?" Akira stood up, turning off the light switches for the bar and some of the booths. The spotlight on Akechi made him feel like he was being interrogated. "Why here? Why now? Is it because you have nowhere else to go?"

Akechi winced. If the ugly clothes and dark circles under his eyes weren't enough, not knowing that he was getting sick from malnutrition and the cold weather just confirmed it: he was helpless. He needed help.

Akira, as always, was the first person he could reach out to. Akechi found it ironic, funny even, but that wasn't enough to put down the lingering feeling of shame as he allowed himself to be carefully handled out of the booth and up into Akira's room.

Akechi realized he had never really been into the other boy's territory. It was as bland and dusty as he expected, but it was warm and so was Akira's hand on the small of his back. He hadn't realized that he crashed on Akira's bed until he felt his spine melting into the thin mattress, bones weary. He wasn't in the mood to recall how he made it out alive or how he kept himself alive, so Akira would just have to wonder until Akechi found the energy to tell his story.

Akechi pitied himself as Akira hovered around him. It was embarrassing to be cared for so meticulously, so selflessly. He closed his eyes when he felt a damp towel on his forehead and opened his eyes to the sight of Akira sleeping on his couch, sitting upright. His useless glasses were on his desk, and his hair hung over his eyes while his chest rose and fell with his steady breathing.

In another world, Akechi would have been comforted at the thought that he had a friend he could count on, someone who would take him in and take care of him as he was sick. In this world, his self-pity turned to self-hatred, and the comfort he felt only fueled his hate for the boy who he couldn't crack, someone who wouldn't break. Akechi didn't deserve any form of kindness from him or from anyone else after what he did. He barely even deserved to live.

Yet here he was, fever-dizzy as he sank deeper into Akira's bed.

He fell in and out of consciousness for a few hours, waking up mostly to the sensation of a fresh towel on his forehead and Akira's hands on his skin, still warm despite the high fever that Akechi was still sporting. Sometimes it was Morgana who settled down on his chest, taking advantage of the furnace-like surface that he could nap on.

He woke up once to the sound of voices, Akira's and Sojiro's. "What the hell is he doing here?" Sakura asked, agitated yet respectful enough to keep his voice down. "You have a habit of picking up strays—I should have known that ever since the cat—but you can't possibly let the boy who _killed you_ stay in your room, _my café._ "

"He… showed up out of nowhere. Messed up. Sick. I can't just let someone die in the cold when there's no way that he could hurt me now," Akira reasoned out. Morgana perched on the table beside them, meowing rapidly to Sojiro.

"What's he saying?" Sojiro asked, taking off his glasses and rubbing the back of his head in exasperation.

Akira tugged on Morgana's collar before the cat leaped off the table, walking towards the window. "He's going to Futaba for today. Hopefully," Morgana stopped and turned his head back slightly, "he won't say anything about this until I figure out what to do."

Morgana jumped on the bed, kneading on the blanket Akechi was under. "You better hope that he can't hurt you anymore." Then he made his way out of the window and into the streets of Yongen-Jaya.

"He can't." Akira looked back at Akechi's sleeping form on the bed. He looked peaceful, for once— nothing like the version of himself that was hanging off the edge of his sanity when the Phantom Thieves last saw him alive. Only at that moment did Akira realize the absurdity of his situation. A man who they almost certainly felt _die_ was alive and sleeping like a baby on his bed. "He wouldn't."

Sojiro sighed. "Make sure no one sees him, and you should take care of yourself. Just got out of juvie three days ago, and now you're harboring a fugitive…"

"You did that for me too, unless you forgot," answered Akira, receiving an exasperated look in response.

"Don't give me that cheek, kid. _You_ are innocent. _That kid,_ " Sojiro looked at Akechi once more before going down the stairs, "tried to kill you, unless _you_ were the one who forgot."

"I could never forget that." Akira took a seat on his couch, bending his head back. He bumped it several times against the wall, frustrated at his own indecisiveness. He knew it was the rational decision to throw Akechi out, but Akechi was someone who clearly looked like the world ran him over several times, not giving him a second to breathe. Throwing him out, leaving him, and forgetting he ever existed was rational, but was it _right?_

Akira stood up and checked Akechi's temperature. The fever had gone down, thank goodness, but Akechi's breathing seemed to indicate that he was in a much deeper sleep than what Akira expected. At least he could get some thinking done before his unwelcomed guest woke up.

He took out some clothes from his box, nondescript and likely fitting Akechi's extremely slim form, and placed them on top of the couch. Before going down with his apron to help Sojiro with the café, he plugged the heater closer to the bed and placed a metal dish beside Akechi. Knowing him, he would probably overreact at the unfamiliar surroundings when he woke up and cause enough ruckus for Akira to know that his thinking time was up.

Akira was simply lucky to hear that undignified yell before any customers turned up. "Be careful," Sojiro said, but his phone was ready to call the cops at any given moment.

When Akira went up to the attic, he was greeted by the sight of Akechi scrambling to get his bearings, still disoriented after taking some medicine. Akira went up to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and was promptly shoved away. _Fine then,_ Akira thought to himself.

 _"Don't touch me,"_ Akechi hissed. "I don't know what you think of me right now, but I don't need your—"

Akira got the pile of clothes and threw it at Akechi, promptly shutting him up. "The bathhouse is across the street; you know that. There are no customers yet, so I suggest you go there now." Akira looked around. "I don't have anything I can use to keep you here, but please don't run away."

He didn't really need to ask. Akechi was playing hard-to-get, but Akira knew that Akechi had nowhere to go; why else would he end up in front of Leblanc in a fever-induced cry for help?

Akechi looked down, both ashamed and honestly afraid. He wanted to bury himself deep underground and hide his face from the hard glint in Akira's eyes, one that still couldn't mask his pure concern for Akechi. It stung; _why couldn't he hate him?_ It would have been easier if they felt the same way.

Akira walked out again. His calmness infuriated Akechi, as it always did. He could take the clothes, go out there, and run away. He could come back and Akira would take him in again. He could repeat this pattern endlessly, and the boy wouldn't even bat an eye. He was so, _so—_

Idiotic. Infuriatingly stupid and naïve and _good._ Akechi didn't deserve that treatment.

He laughed to himself, put up his hoodie, and walked out of the café without even turning his head.

Akira looked up from the dish he was drying and simply shook his head. He would come back when he was ready for it.

 

\---

 

Akechi came back in twenty minutes with a towel drying his hair and an indeterminate look in his eyes while he walked straight up to Akira's room without even turning his head. Sojiro silently put together a plate of curry and poured a cup for Akira to bring up to his room. "Be careful," he said for the second time that day, and Akira could only nod in response.

When he made his way up the stairs, he was glad to see Akechi calmly standing by the window with a crack open to let a cold draft in. "Breakfast," Akira said quietly, cautiously. Akechi turned around, eyes blank but accepting. He took the food and sat by Akira's desk, eating slowly but clearly thankful for each bite.

Akira sat on the couch with his legs extending over it. He observed Akechi's appearance. It had only been two months since they felt Akechi die, but so much had happened between then and now. Honestly, he felt a huge weight off his conscience now that he knew Akechi made it out. For the longest time, Akira asked himself if he could have done anything, _anything at all,_ to save Akechi from himself and his cognitive double. He was glad he didn't need to, but at what cost?

Seeing Akechi now, it only made Akira itch to ask. He said he wouldn't, but Akechi did owe him for taking care of him like this, right?

Akechi put his utensils down and held his mug as he turned his chair to face Akira. "So? What's it going to be?" His jaw twitched. "You're dying to ask, aren't you? How did _scum_ like me manage to make it out of that ship? You know I deserved to die there—"

"Stop," Akira said. "That's not what this is going to be about."

 _"What then?"_ Akechi was close to throwing another tantrum, but he found that he was simply too tired to lash out and yell and throw things at Akira. He gripped the handle of his mug. "How are you so calm?" He sounded confused, distraught. It wasn't _fair;_ it was like he was the only one who was enraged at his own situation.

"You're a criminal," the deep fury in Akira's voice made Akechi's eyes widen, "but you don't deserve to die."

That was enough for Akechi's mask to crack, falling piece by piece as the sincerity in Akira's eyes broke his cycle of self-pity and self-hatred. For the past two months—no, for years and years and years—he knew in himself that he was useless scum, abandoned by the world without a reason to still exist. He committed heinous crimes with minimal guilt because he knew that he didn't matter, but the power made him bigger than the small child crying out for affection within him. He got closer to his father and gained love from the public, but he still hadn't found the reason to live. Death was painful to accept, but he deserved it anyway.

Then came Kurusu Akira with his honesty and his goodness and his _stupid_ , naïve hope that Akechi was a good person that had a purpose in this world. Akechi knew that he meant every word, and even if he wanted to be angry, he simply felt numb. His mask was so tightly melded into his face, and he didn't know what to do now that it was falling apart and he could breathe easily.

"You believe in justice, right?" Akira asked. "Don't you think you deserve to face it for all you've done?"

"Are you turning me in?" Akechi knew that Akira had no proof, not even with Niijima Sae on his side.

"No." Akira pulled his knees to his chest. "You could leave, go out there, and face your fate alone. I… can't stop you if that's what you really want."

"Or?" Akechi put his mug down. "You're giving me options, right?"

"I don't mind if you want to find your path by yourself. I wouldn't blame you for wanting to figure yourself out without others being there to scrutinize you, but it would kill me if you never did."

Akechi narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"You could die. You could kill yourself or get yourself killed in a dumb fight or starve to death or completely vanish off the surface of the earth, and I don't want to be the person that could have been there but wasn't," Akira said. He was openly scared of the volatile vulnerability that often made Akechi put himself in danger just to test the limits of his luck. "I don't want you to be alone. I know that feeling."

Akechi scoffed. "What do _you_ know about being alone? You're surrounded by people who _love and adore_ their leader, their classmate, their _friend_ ," he spat. "Don't talk to me about being alone when you've never been backed into a corner with your dead clone staring at you with a gun in their hand, not knowing if you're ever going to make it out alive."

That alone was enough to give Akira an idea of the horrors that Akechi must have gone through to get to this point, and yet he still didn't appreciate all the chances he was given in his life. Akechi probably acted that way because he never really understood what it felt like to have something good happen to him, and Akira knew that feeling too.

"I do know loneliness." Another eye roll. "When Shido did what he did to me, everyone I knew turned on me. I was the talk of the town for being the trouble kid with no mother, the silent delinquent who finally bared his fangs for the world to see." Akira bowed his head; it was never easy for him to remember the scorn and disgust on everyone's faces as they whispered and looked away from _scum,_ as aptly worded by Akechi.

"Even if I weren't required to move away, I still wouldn't have a life back in Okina. When I come back, no one will really know or care if I was innocent; I'm still a criminal in their eyes, and that might never change." He looked into Akechi's blank eyes, looking for understanding in his careful gaze. Surprisingly, he saw a glimpse of recognition. They weren't placed in the same situations, but the sentiment was there: the pure, unadulterated rage at the cards they were dealt.

Akira stretched his legs out again. "Isn't it funny?"

 _Fine, I'll bite,_ Akechi thought to himself. "What is?"

"You and I were given the same power, had the same enemy, and evaded death, though barely," Akira said with the hint of a smile gracing his face.

"Let me guess: in another world, you and I would be great friends," Akechi said flatly. "You can't possibly believe that, can you?"

"I do." Akira smiled, just a bit, enough for Akechi's breath to get caught in his chest. "I believe it in this world too."

Akira stood up and took the plate and mug from the table. Akechi was still mulling over Akira's words. "Hey," Akira said softly, making the other boy look up. He was well-rested and well-fed for the first time in a while, probably, and as much as Akira wanted to stay neutral in this situation, he couldn't help but care about Akechi deeply.

"Hm?" Akechi replied absentmindedly.

"I'm going to ask Sojiro if he has a futon somewhere in his house." Akira stopped for a second. "You're okay with sleeping on the floor, right?"

Akechi stood and leaned against the wall. "You can stop now."

 _Not this again._ "Stop what?"

Akechi shrugged. "The perfect act. Stop pretending like you're completely unfazed by the world, that my presence here doesn't bother you, that nothing can make you _snap_." Akechi cleared Akira's hands and grabbed him by the collar, smirking when he finally saw the flash of anger in the other's eyes.

Akira finally, _finally,_ pushed back. "If I do," Akechi gasped as a hand on his chest kept him pinned to the wall, "will you stop trying to rile me up?" Akira wouldn't budge.

"You're right; I do put up an act to keep people around me. You want to know something no one else knows about me?" Akechi couldn't respond; the intensity in Akira's eyes kept him silent. "I mostly care about you because in another world, if we never knew that we could steal hearts, I would have killed all those people," _here's the kicker,_ "and I wouldn't even think twice about it."

Akechi couldn't breathe. Somehow, between the moment he first met Akira and now, that blank gaze and amicable expression turned the slightest bit sinister, like a predator waiting for the moment to strike. There was darkness in everyone, but Akechi truly understood the depth of possibility in Akira as he calmly put the other boy's hand down and stepped aside.

"So you're treating me like a charity case because you're afraid of who you could have become?" Akechi chuckled, devoid of mirth. "That’s dark, especially from you."

"Well," Akira took the plate again and avoided Akechi's eyes, "I'm going to get you a futon. Let's drop this, okay?" The small smile on his face was ridiculous, but Akechi knew Akira needed his mask on when he was around anyone else but Akechi.

It was… comforting? Akira didn't _trust_ him with his darkness, no, but he was privy to it. Since Akira was so obsessed with bringing out the light in him, Akechi could revel in the darkness that made Akira just a bit more _real_ to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! this is my first fic in a while—first for the Persona fandom—and i absolutely love this ship ;; this fic is basically an extensive akeshu character study with sprinklings of angst and dark themes (and some fluff. maybe. hopefully.)  
> title from "Robbers" by The 1975.  
> thank you for reading and hopefully you stick around for the future chapters! :)


	2. 02/16 - 02/17

** 02/16 – 02/17 **

_(Your pride will be the death of us all.)_

———

"Okay, house rules. First, don't be snarky."

Akechi snorted. "I can't promise that."

"Fine. Second, you can't live here for free. I asked Sojiro about this, and he said that I can teach you how to help out in the café."

"And if I don't want to?"

Akira finished picking out the clothes that he thought could fit Akechi. "I'll kick you out."

"I thought we weren't allowed to be snarky in this household," Akechi retorted.

"That applies to you, not me." Akira dug the heel of his hand on Akechi's head as he passed by, causing Akechi to groan in pain and hit Akira's shin to make him fall on his bed. "Also, I'm requiring you to get a haircut."

Akechi frowned deeply. "I'm drawing the line—"

Akira laughed, rubbing Morgana's back as the cat settled on his lap. "Last rule: you can do whatever you want with your time. Live your life."

"… but?" Akechi started at him expectantly, knowing there was always a catch. Would Akira ask him to turn himself in the moment he fucked up? Would he be forced to do something ridiculous like devote his life to community service or become Akira's slave?

"You can leave whenever you want," Akira said with a blank stare. The warmth of their teasing earlier somehow vanished. In its wake was the gaze of someone who was scrutinizing Akechi as if he were a shogi player anticipating their enemy's every move.

"Wait, you're _letting_ me run away?" Akechi was reminded of the thin ice he was treading on. Akira was no saint, and he had the right to toy with Akechi's life as he pleased. The promise of freedom was overwhelming; Akechi was used to being suffocated by his circumstances.

"You can come back when you feel like it. I'll…" Akira looked away. "I'll still take you back."

Akechi couldn't stand it anymore. "What's the catch?"

Akira took a deep breath. "You can only run away twice. If you go one more time, I'm giving up on you."

The steely resolve in Akira's eyes came back. _Thank goodness,_ Akechi thought to himself. For a moment, Akechi thought that Akira had genuine compassion for him, and that was a scary thought. At least with this condition, Akechi knew the boundaries of whatever this was between him and Akira. Now he knew when and where to push, how to rile him up and get a reaction from him the way he wanted to.

But still, something about the monotone dejection in Akira's voice betrayed the nonchalance in his eyes. Akira could control how he appeared; everything about his inoffensive exterior was calculated, and Akechi was impressed at how well he was able to temper his emotions. Unfortunately for Akira, he wasn't as skilled in controlling his speech the way Akechi could.

Akira unnerved Akechi, as he always did. Just a few hours earlier, Akechi managed to wrench the truth out of Akira: his concern was a thinly-veiled attempt to cover up his inner imperfections. It felt like a breakthrough, but something was unsettlingly genuine about that dejection in Akira's voice as he spoke. He anticipated Akechi's escape—he knew it would happen over and over again—but his boundaries were placed, not to limit Akechi's options, but to seemingly protect himself from any abuse that Akechi could do to his kindness.

"Here," Akira handed Akechi a phone, "it has my number, Sojiro's, Sae's, and the number of the doctor here in Yongen-Jaya, should you ever need it."

 _Even though it pains me to say it,_ "… thank you."

Akechi didn't want to say anything more. That was all Akira needed.

Akira cleared his throat. "Oh, and if anyone recognizes you, it's up to you if you want to introduce yourself as Akechi Goro. It might raise a lot of questions though, and I wouldn't know how you can answer them."

"I'll… figure it out. Make up a crazy story of how the detective prince fell off his throne, maybe like getting shot by my cognitive double in a ship-like palace formed by my father's insanely distorted desires," Akechi said with an entirely straight face, followed by the typical smile he flashed for the cameras. Surprisingly, Akira laughed at the absurdity of it all, hoping to one day see someone's reaction to Akechi's emotionless narration.

Akira was about to sleep when Akechi spoke suddenly. "What do I do if your friends see me?" He sighed. "They're not going to be pleased when they find out that your murderer is sleeping on your attic floor now."

Morgana got up and stretched. "He's right. I made sure not to tell Futaba anything, but she's going to find out soon. All of them will."

Akira's mind raced as he thought of the various reactions that his friends would have at the sight of Akechi reading a book on a bar stool or walking around Shibuya. Ann and Ryuji would yell in confusion, Yusuke's voice would turn impossibly deep as he interrogated Akechi, and Haru and Makoto would hold something tightly in their hand in fear that Akechi would attempt to hurt them.

Akechi's mind wandered along the same path. In their final moments together, the Thieves had seemed like they understood him. _Accepted him,_ even. Would they forget that when they saw him again? Would they only remember the thought of Akechi at the other end of the gun pointed at people they knew, people they cared for, people they _loved?_

Akechi sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. These outbursts happened often, and it took all his willpower to keep the bile from rising in his throat. _Not in front of them,_ he told himself.

Akira turned to his side, concern playing out on his barely-lit features. He forced Akechi to look at him when he rolled over and placed a hand on his arm. "Are you going to talk about it or should I just guess?"

"Maybe," Akechi said with a croak, "you should leave me alone."

"You're right." Akira returned to his previous position, but this time he couldn't conceal his concern for Akechi. "Look, I'm an expert at standing around and letting people work out whatever they have going then taking credit for helping them face themselves. If you need it, I'm willing to stand around for you."

The embarrassment in Akira's voice made Akechi chuckle a bit. "Glad to know that you can admit how useless you actually are."

"Hey, I'm not the only one here who enjoys getting undue recognition here," Akira said, jokingly but they both knew he meant it. Something about their shared self-deprecation calmed Akechi enough to let him lie down again, facing Akira's bed as his eyes fluttered shut.

———

Of course, it had to be Futaba.

Akechi was just getting used to the feeling of the apron tied around his waist while he was washing dishes when the creak of the front door caused his nerves to go haywire. "Akira, I hunger!" Futaba said, holding Morgana by the waist and marching up to the counter. Meanwhile, Akechi kept his eyes down at the sink, furiously rubbing to keep himself busy. That act, unfortunately, could never deter Futaba. It only took a few seconds before she dropped Morgana and covered her mouth in shock.

"No way…"

Akechi turned around slowly, not wanting to shock the girl any further. He took off the rubber gloves and placed them neatly at the side. "W-welcome to Leblanc," he said shakily, and Morgana snickered from his usual post on the bar stool. Futaba was still staring, backing away slowly until she sat in a booth with her hands still over her mouth.

"But— but _how?_ I felt you die." Futaba shook her head vehemently. "There's absolutely no way—"

The door opened once again. "Hey, sorry I took a while. I was looking for the brand of flour that Sojiro used for that special mix, but— oh shit."

Akira dropped the grocery bags on the counter as he observed the body language of the two stunned individuals in the room. Futaba had her head in her hands, shaking as she recalled the exact moment that she felt Akechi die. The boy in question was pressed against the corner of the small kitchen, making himself as uncharacteristically small as possible.

Akira didn't know what to do or who to go to. He knew Futaba was in shock right now, but something about Akechi's behavior was totally unusual. Akechi was gripping a dishrag, averting all sorts of eye contact. Akira thought that he would be cocky and nonchalant towards everything, but it was as if he was _afraid_ of Futaba.

And then it clicked. His dark circles, disheveled hair, and blown-out eyes was a far cry from the confident and composed Akechi Goro that everyone knew. He wasn't furious and manic like the last time the Thieves saw him; this Akechi was angry at his circumstances but despondent, backed into a corner out of instinct after months of living on his toes and watching out for his life.

It pained Akira to pass by Futaba with only a quick pat on her head. She simply nodded in response, showing that she just needed some time to process everything but she would be fine.

He walked up to Akechi and slowly reached out to him. It took a while before Akechi looked up, dropping the dishrag and taking Akira's offer with his dry hand. Akira pulled him out of the kitchen and into the light. Futaba had Morgana on her lap and she regarded Akechi with curiosity, not fear or hostility.

"It's true," Futaba whispered. She adjusted her glasses to really get a good look at Akechi. "How long has this been going on?"

"A day?" Akira answered incredulously. It felt so long ago, but he felt like he made some progress with Akechi overnight.

"And you just let him in? Just like that?" Futaba wasn't angry; she was _confused._ "Is that a normal social behavior I should be aware of?"

Akira chuckled. "No, I don't think it is, but I did it anyway."

"How though?" Futaba's eyes widened as she stared at Akechi even more. " _How_ did you survive all that?"

Akira's hand let go of Akechi's and slid to the small of his back, urging him to speak. "I…" Akechi suddenly lost his balance a bit, and Akira rubbed his back slowly to calm him down. "It was Loki. He saved me."

"Your… persona?" Morgana suddenly perked up. "How did your persona get you out of there?"

Akechi looked down at his hands and flexed his digits. "I think both of them were there to help me: Loki _and_ Robin Hood."

"Wait, you were able to summon both of your personas at the same time?" Akira's brows furrowed. Even he was never able to conjure more than one persona at a time. "That should be impossible."

"Well, having two personas _is_ considered impossible," Futaba said, "but I know two people here who have that ability. I think there's a lot that you could have done with your ability, but you just didn't know."

"It was honestly a big blur to me." Akechi remembered the taste of blood in his mouth as he crumbled on the ground. They did shoot at each other, but both shots missed. Akechi was incredibly weak from his previous battle with the Phantom Thieves, and his double was taking menacing steps towards him.

"I'm going to kill you, just as Shido asked. That's all I'm good for anyway," the other Akechi said with a sweetly sinister smile on his face. As soon as he was close enough to land a hit on Akechi, a sudden burst of power hit Akechi, giving him a second wind of sorts. He could feel every inch of his body that was on pain, but nothing was more painful than the heat that was building up inside him. It was as if he turned himself psychotic again, except—

It felt transcendental. He felt himself being raised from the ground by careful yet strong hands, and the shadows by the cognitive double's side simply dissipated. The other Akechi started walking backwards with fear in his glazed eyes. Akechi found the strength to look behind him and saw Robin Hood's crest by his side. It made him smile.

The last thing he saw before he closed his eyes was Loki ramming the fake Akechi through with his sword, waiting until the shadow's form slowly dissipated before pulling the blade out of his chest. Cognitive Akechi met Akechi's eyes and mouthed, _"Remember you will die."_ And then he did.

Loki loomed over Akechi while Robin Hood held him up. He simply felt his body being lifted off the ground and moved, and the looming presence of a guardian protected him from the shadows roaming the halls of the ship. Over and over again, he heard the two facets of his psyche repeating, _"I am thou, thou art I."_

But when he opened his eyes, he could only see the trail of blood dripping from his arm. _"Do not worry,"_ the voice of Loki said. _"Your body is but a vessel to hold your power. It can be repaired."_

Robin Hood released his hold on Akechi's body. Akechi fell to the ground, surprised to feel the cement of the sidewalk in the back alleys of Chiyoda. He was out of the Metaverse, yet—

_"Your retribution will not be attained. Our purpose cannot be fulfilled."_

That was the last he heard from his personas. Since then, he was never able to call out for their help. "It felt like a part of me had simply vanished. It felt so… empty."

"I know." Akira looked at him softly. "I know what that feels like."

Of course, he would understand. Akira was given the power to hold more than just two personas, and he knew the emptiness was like a gaping hole in his chest, invisible to others but so strongly felt with each breath he took.

"And what did you do for the past few months?" asked Futaba. "We… tried to look for you, just in case."

Akechi shot up suddenly and faced Akira. "What does she mean? You all thought I was dead."

"Not all of us," said Akira. Something about his tone made Akechi want to push his buttons just a bit. "I didn't."

Futaba stretched. "Well, _I_ did. I felt you die, but he wouldn't believe it."

"And I was right, wasn't I?" The grin on Akira's face was fake and stupid, and Akira knew that Akechi saw right through him. _This_ is what Akechi feared. Akira was someone different when others were around him, and as Akechi silently observed his interactions with Futaba, Akira felt his scrutinizing gaze even as they both pretended to ignore each other.

"You're an idiot, you know," Akechi said as Futaba took Morgana out of the café after she had breakfast. Akira rolled his eyes and handed Akechi the dirty plate.

"For what, this time? Putting too much honey in the curry? Taking too long talking to Futaba?" He leaned against the counter. "Not giving up on looking for you?"

Akechi faltered for a moment. "Besides that," he left the plate under the water and turned to face Akira, "you're _really_ deep into this act of yours."

"How long will you push that narrative of yours? This is who I am," Akira said. "It's who I am around everybody, except maybe you."

"And why is that, Akira?" Akechi smirked. "Don't tell me— am I _special_ to you?"

"Maybe. Is that what you want to hear?" Akira tried to mirror his expression, but he was shocked to see anger flare up in Akechi's eyes before he shut himself off again.

"Stop playing your games with me. I'm not going to put up with that shit," Akechi said. He was in no mood for Akira's antics as Joker.

Akira sighed. _So flaky._ "You know, you never did tell us what you were doing for the past few months."

"I was… being insignificant, I guess. Odd jobs, manga cafés, anything to keep a roof over my head." Akira couldn't imagine Akechi working at the beef bowl shop or somewhere shadier just to scrape up enough for a bed to lie in, but that was reality. Akechi was worn out beyond belief, and there seemed to be no end to the mysteries in his eyes.

"How come I never saw you then?" Akira's voice softened.

Akechi turned the faucet off and took off his gloves. "Maybe I didn't want to be seen. Maybe I was ashamed of how far I've fallen."

Akira shook his head. "You don't have to be. Not everyone can say they survived what you've gone through."

"And what? Should I talk about how I've come out of it as a 'better person?'" Akechi laughed bitterly. "Look, that kind of pep talk must have worked for everyone else in your life, but it doesn't apply to me. What I've gone through made me a murderer. I'm not a target you can simply… _redeem_ by your kindness, Kurusu, so _don't._ "

Akira grit his teeth. As usual, Akechi shut himself off so harshly that it almost whipped Akira back. "What was your plan then? Why did you end up coming here?"

The smile on Akechi's face was cold. "I don't think you need to know." Akira held his forearm as his attempt to be threatening. Akechi shook his head. "You're not getting anything out of me."

Luckily, Sojiro came in as soon as the two fell into deep silence. "Oh, you're both up." He suddenly stepped aside when Akechi bowed to him before calmly leaving the shop. "Where the hell is he going?"

Akira shrugged. "Who knows? Let him be."

"Hey." Sojiro took off his hat and walked up to Akira. "He doesn't seem too stable, and you've just gotten control of your life again. Don't let him step all over you and take advantage of what you're doing for him."

"He won't." Akira brushed off the concern with a chuckle, but his eyes went to the door with a piercing gaze. Akechi was like a spooked animal: craving for something but shying away the moment it was offered to him. "He won't even let himself take it."

———

_(Beware, it goeth before the fall.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! sorry if there was a bit of delay, but I'm glad to have written chapter 2 at a reasonable pace. I really wanted to continue setting up their personalities and their situations here in this chapter. Their personalities and reactions to each other may be a little confusing for now, but it will become clearer as the story progresses.  
> opening and ending lines are from "Schuyler Defeated," the Hamilton song.  
> thank you for reading and I hope you all liked it! stick around for the next one hehe :) (follow my [tumblr](http://amenochieienn.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/amenochieien/)!!)


	3. 02/19 - 02/26

** 02/19 – 02/26 **

"Honey, I'm home…?"

Akechi dropped his bag in the booth and sank in the worn leather of Leblanc's seats. He had just finished a 3-hour shift in the beef bowl shop on a busy Sunday, and he was looking forward to a nice bath and a good plate of food he could actually eat.

Unfortunately for him, all he got was a cold stare from Akira and his cat from behind the counter. 

"You said I could come back," said Akechi as he stretched his arms above his head. 

"I didn't tell you to leave," Akira replied curtly. He turned over the sign for the cafe an hour earlier than he was supposed to and sat across Akechi in the booth.

"Not yet, probably," Akechi teased, but the nervousness in his voice was buried under his exhaustion. 

Akira untied his apron and tossed it at the counter, leaning his head back. His body language showed a boy who was clearly worn out after a long day, but knowing Leblanc's regular customer traffic, it likely wasn't due to work. That probably meant— well, Akechi didn't want to assume.

"Be frank with me, Akechi," Akira straightened up, "what was your plan?" Akechi was about to walk away from the question before Akira raised a hand and leaned forward. "Not then, but _now._ Why did you suddenly come back? Did you run out of money? Almost get beaten up? Did you just get tired?"

Akechi stretched his neck and stared Akira straight in the eyes. "I got my shit together. Applied for some part-time jobs, anything to get me out of here for a while."

"And if I didn't let you in, where would you go? What would you do then?"

Akira's tone of questioning made Akechi's jaw twitch. "I would _find a way,_ like how I did for months before. Wait— what's your point?"

"You—" Akira looked like he was struggling to get the words out because of his frustration. "You never have a plan! You never think these things through!"

Akechi's brows furrowed. "Okay, what the hell are you talking about—"

"You went into Shido's palace to kill an entire group of people who could have easily overpowered you, along with the dozens of shadows prowling around. You rejected our offer out of your own stupid pride and nearly _died._ " The heat in his voice made Akechi wince. "If you had joined us, you know we would have finished the job and you would have seen Shido suffer the way he deserved to.

"And then there's this. There's a reason why you came here so suddenly. I know there is." Akechi's expression turned steely. "If you were really doing well out there doing whatever you did to survive those few months, you wouldn't need to suddenly come here. What's frustrating is that you won't tell me, you won't let me fix it—"

"See," Akechi slid out of the booth, "my problem is that I think I have everything under control when I have no plan of action at all." He scoffed at Akira's surprise when he actually acknowledged it. "But you— _you_ think that you can solve everyone's problems but you _can't._ " Akechi slung his bag over his shoulder and turned away. "If I did have a problem, it would be mine to fix and not yours."

Akira curled his hands into fists on his lap. "Would it kill you to give me a chance?" he said through gritted teeth.

Once again, Akechi felt his breathing pause. Before him was someone who desperately needed to be needed, or who was at least looking for that sort of acceptance from _Akechi,_ of all people. For a moment, he understood exactly what Akira felt, but he knew he shouldn't be the recipient of this.

"I… I'm sorry." He placed a hand on Akira's shoulder. "You've done more than enough. My problems, whatever they may be, shouldn't involve you. I need to learn how to deal with my own issues— _without_ getting myself killed."

"Being alone has never worked out for you," Akira said quietly. "If you had told me something then, _anything,_ I could have been there for you."

"I know you would have, but I've dealt with the consequences of that already." Akechi hesitantly pulled back his hand as he walked towards the stairs. "Also, don't try too hard to fit into your perfect little mold for me."

Akira bristled at his words. "You don't have to say it like that—"

"You can… be your true self around me." Akechi looked back, smiled a bit, and watched as Akira struggled with the thought of being the vulnerable one in their situation. Akira looked like he wanted to be outraged at the suggestion that he was any less composed and perfect as he wanted to be, but Akechi had already seen a peek of that. What's wrong with showing a bit more?

So he raised a middle finger in the air and went on his phone, probably to make a passive-aggressive post on social media directed to no one. Akechi laughed as he climbed the stairs and collapsed on the couch. _That's more like it._

———

Sojiro didn't mind when he saw Akechi preparing the coffee siphon the next day. "So you're back," he simply said, and that was it. Akechi was sort of grateful for how accepting he seemed to be when it came to Akira and whatever he did with his spare time. It spoke volumes of how much he trusted his ward.

Futaba still jolted at the sight of him, but her hesitation towards him completely melted away when he served her plate of curry and she graciously took it with her largest smile. Morgana climbed on the bar stool beside her, and they chattered on right away. Akechi settled into his usual routine in the kitchen, almost as if he never left at all.

"Good morning," Akira said from the staircase. He was dressed and ready for his day, but his unkempt bedhead and fumbling feet made Akechi chuckle to himself. "You're up early."

"Earlier than you, sleepyhead." Akechi received a hard shove to his side and was about to retaliate with a sopping rag to Akira's clean clothes before Sojiro coughed behind them.

"No horseplay in my café, boys," he warned, but the smirk on his face told them that he was more amused than annoyed.

They stared at him, pinched each other's sides one last time, and went back to work.

———

Akechi dropped his bag on the work desk and curled up into a ball on the couch. He was shivering but he was too tired to walk over to the heater and turn it on. Luckily for him, Morgana had turned on the heater and settled comfortably on his usual position on the bed by the time he woke up from his spontaneous nap.

"Where have you been?" he asked, and Akechi grumbled as he tried to lift his face off the ugly cushion of the couch.

"Helping the old man in the secondhand shop clean his wares." He felt his nose itch at the thought of all the dust he probably inhaled. "Tired."

"Hey," Akira tossed an envelope at Akechi and laughed as he fumbled to pick it up. Akechi's eyes widened at the huge wad of cash in his hands. "Let's have dinner."

"It's—" Akechi checked his phone, "ten in the evening. Also, how much is this? Where did you get this much money at once?" He narrowed his eyes. "You're not selling drugs, are you?"

"Geez, no!" Akira shook his head and took the money back from Akechi. "Worked at Crossroads for a while. Lala was being too nice."

"You still work in that sketchy bar?" Akechi sighed. "Well, I'm not one to judge."

"Yeah, you've had your fair share of questionable employers," Akira teased, but he hesitated to see Akechi's reaction before smiling and reaching a hand out. "Come on, the diner's still open." Akechi made a show of yawning and stretching. Akira just groaned. "It's obviously _my_ treat."

Akechi smiled and got up. "Let me change into something less dusty, and then I'll meet you downstairs."

The train was full of people going to Shibuya to party all night or to catch a ride to an even busier area of the city. Akira and Akechi stood by the door, both holding on to the pole to keep themselves from toppling over. Akira stretched as soon as they stepped out of the crowded train and into the open air of Shibuya at night.

"You act like a tourist," Akechi said in disdain.

" _Technically,_ I am one." Akira tugged on Akechi's arm, leading him to the direction of the diner.

"Sometimes I forget you're not from here. You're more familiar with these streets than I am," Akechi said dryly. They eventually made their way in front of the narrow staircase leading to the diner when Akechi remembered something from one of their many nights talking to each other in Leblanc long ago. "Okina, right?"

"Yeah," Akira said, but something about his expression made Akechi drop it. "Question: you work here, right?"

Akechi sighed. "Yes, it's one of my three hundred part-time jobs at the moment. Why do you ask?"

"Do you maybe…" Akira bit his lip, "have an employee discount?"

Akechi stared at him. "Why the hell would you need a discount? You _literally_ have a wad of cash in your bag."

"Ok, so there _is_ a discount?" Akira said hopefully.

"No! There is none!" Akechi said, frustration and disbelief coloring his voice. "If there were, they might make me put in an extra shift for the week to pay for it." He pressed a finger against Akira's chest. "This was supposed to be _your treat._ "

"Yeah, but," he rubbed the back of his neck, "I kind of… made a bet with Ryuji. And I lost."

Akechi pressed his palm against his forehead. "Oh god—"

"I can pay for your food, I promise!" Akira leaned against the wall behind him. "I just need a little help. _Please?"_ He smiled cheekily.

Akechi groaned and grabbed Akira by the lapels of his coat, pulling him up the stairs. They settled into a booth, and Akira was forced to sit beside him as Akechi refused to let him go. A waitress walked towards them and grinned at the sight of Akechi.

"Akechi!" she said, and Akechi smiled at his coworker.

"Hey there. Can we order two steaks, both with fruit tea combos? Thanks." He gave her his signature smile as she nodded and walked away. Akechi brought out the book he wanted to read and Akira brought out the modules that Kawakami sent for him to study.

They were both busy with their materials even as they ate dinner. Soon, both were engrossed in whatever they were reading and they finished their dinner quickly. The steady hum of the diner around them was calming enough to keep them going for about an hour before Akira dropped his head to the table and gave up.

Akechi raised a brow. "What happened to you?"

"I'm tired," Akira whined, turning his head to face Akechi. The other boy, not bothered enough to take his attention off his book, absentmindedly placed a hand of Akira's head and stroked his hair slowly. _Like petting a whiny, overgrown cat._

"Kawakami's doing her best," said Akira, "I know that, but I'm sick of this. I just want to live a regular life."

That got Akechi's attention. "What do you mean?"

"Word has probably gone around saying that I went to juvie and all that. It would be just like coming in on my first day again, and Kawakami thought it would be better if I got my education at home instead." Akira sighed. "I don't agree, but I don't have much of a choice anyway."

Akechi put his book down and leaned his head on the heel of his hand as he rested his elbow on the table. "So when you go back to Okina, will you be able to study again?"

Akira stared blankly ahead of him. "Yeah, I will. Sae's been handling all my papers to make sure that I'll have a life to come back to there."

"And is that a life you want to go back to?" Akechi sat up and took a sip from his drink. "Tell me about who you were back then."

"Why are you suddenly prying, huh?" Akira's smile made him look like he was joking, but he was uncomfortable at the sudden turn of the conversation. "Haven't you read my file and spied on me already?"

 _That_ wasn't what Akechi expected. "Touché." Akira loosened up again. "… I’m not letting you off the hook though."

"Fine." Akira sat up and bit the inside of his cheek. Akechi noticed that he often did that when he was nervous, though that wasn't a common sight. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, you know everything about _my_ awful family history, so isn't it fair to start with yours?" Akechi felt himself put his detective glasses on again. It felt strange—almost wrong—to read Akira like this, like a target he was attempting to prey on.

"Where do I begin?" Akira grumbled to himself. "I'm an only child of two doctors from Osaka. My dad wanted a kid, and my mom wanted her family to leave her alone. They married out of convenience and moved to Okina because my mom got a job offer and they wanted to get away from their families."

When Akira didn't speak again, Akechi crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Oh, come on. That can't just be it." Akira's raised eyebrow forced Akechi to explain his assumptions. "You're too good at masking your emotions, as if you've lived your entire life desensitizing yourself to all sorts of situations."

Akechi's words pierced right through Akira's defenses. "Am I right?"

Akira smiled bitterly. "You win. Alright, my parents' relationship has always been a mess. My mom was obsessed with her work, almost hating me for making her waste a year of her life balancing pregnancy, then childbirth, then parenthood, along with her career. My father couldn't stand the fact that he was nowhere near as excellent as my mother, and they constantly tried to shit on each other as I grew up."

"But your dad wanted to have a child, right?"

"He wanted me, yeah. It was all smiles from him for the first few years, but he got sick of our home situation after a while. Tried to leave several times, but he was man enough to stay." They both looked down when he said this. It stung for both of them. "Anyway, he stayed, but my mom didn't."

"What?"

"My mom tried to convince me that being a doctor was the only path in my life. She tried to raise me as some sort of prodigy child, but I wasn't one. When I told her that I would never want to be a doctor because of how she raised me, she gave up on the idea of a family and walked out on us when I was twelve."

"Oh shit." Akechi knew what it was like to lose a mother. Perhaps his experience was more literal— _right-in-front-of-him literal_ —but that didn't mean Akira's situation was any less painful.

Akira shrugged. "She left, but she never stopped sending us money. It was less of being a good enough mother and more of rubbing it in my father's face that she was still in a much better place than he was. She went back to Osaka, and she's been doing everything she wanted to do before my father and I shackled her down to Okina. She's happier. Sometimes I wish I went there to her, but she wouldn't want me anyway."

The ice in both of their drinks were all melted and mixed with their drinks when Akechi spoke again. "How did they react when Shido sued you?"

"Not well, let me tell you. My dad had been putting up with me for the past few years out of obligation, but as soon as it happened, he just let me go. Said I was too much of a hassle for someone who never caused him any good." Akira chuckled with deep bitterness leaking from his voice. "My mom hasn't spoken to me or sent me anything ever since the word got out. Lucky for her, most of her relatives don't even know I exist. I could never be traced back to her legacy.

"They've always wanted to drop me. They finally found their reason to."

It took a while for Akechi to find something to say. "Any friends who would be glad to see you again?"

"None like the people here." Akira paused. "None like you."

Akechi wanted to lash out at him again, but unlike last time, this felt less teasing and more real. _Painfully_ real, unlike everything else that Akira showed him. He tried to act emotionless, almost casual, about everything, but that couldn't be what he truly felt.

As time passed, Akechi was forced to grow up too early. He was forced to accept the harsh realities of life, and the turmoil bubbling within him in all these years made him who he was.

In Akira's case, he was forced to make himself scarce to the people who were supposed to help him grow. Everything he held inside him was so tightly sealed that nonchalance seemed to be a mask sewn into his skin. The only time he could tear that off was when he was Joker, and now that outlet was gone.

"Remember what I said the other day?" Akechi asked, and Akira only tilted his head in confusion. It took courage for him to place his hand on Akira's shoulder again, squeezing slightly.

"I can be my true self around you, right." Akira smiled and placed his hand over Akechi's. _"I never want to go back there."_

Years of bitterness and repressed emotions finally broke through in a safe space for Akira. That was all he needed before a relieved smile spread across his face. He kept shaking his head. "I don't. I really don't."

"You've made a real home here, haven't you?" Akechi thought it was funny that he was part of Akira's home here. They were acquaintances, then comrades, then enemies, and now roommates. _Maybe friends, even._

But that was dangerous thought that Akechi couldn't—

"I was being real too, you know," Akira said, "when I said you were one of my friends. You are."

"Yeah?" Akechi asked, disbelieving but hopeful.

"Yeah." They shared a smile. Akechi wasn't used to feeling so light inside.

Akechi made Akira slide out of the booth. "Alright, enough of this. _You pay,_ " he threatened one more time, "then let's go home."

As they approached the cashier and Akira brought out his wallet, the waitress looked at Akechi and tilted her head. "Akechi, aren't you going to use your employee discount?"

Akira cheered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's chapter 3!! i wanted to flesh out akira's past because it's easier for me to show his thought process when everyone knows what he's had to live with :(  
> also i wanted to write a slightly lighter chapter bc sometimes we forget that these characters are teenagers who will do Stupid Teenager Things and I just want to see my boys being as Annoyingly Teenager As Possible!!!!! hopefully their character development isn't moving too fast bc the story does skip several days sometimes  
> anyway, thank you for reading! drop by my [tumblr](http://amenochieienn.tumblr.com/) and send me asks, prompts, headcanons, Emo Stuff, anything!!!! and follow my [twitter](http://twitter.com/amenochieien/) too (i mostly run a kpop twt)


	4. 02/28 - 03/01

** 02/28 – 03/01 **

It had been a turbulent two weeks for Akechi since he started staying in Leblanc. Though it was comforting to know that he could have a roof over his head every night, he couldn't ignore the shame in his stomach as he accepted the help from Akira. His host was no altruist, sure, but there were days when Akechi still thought he deserved to starve on the streets. It was always… strange to be given a chance to live.

The fact that he hadn't been recognized by random people was even stranger. Not in the two months that he spent hiding in the shadows, and not even once in the two weeks he spent out and about trying to pull himself together. He knew he vanished from the public eye, but he didn't think they would forget him that easily.

A few months ago, he would have been enraged. He would be clawing out of his skin for some attention, to know that the world knew his name and that he wasn't an insignificant slave who was only counting down to his death with a smile plastered on his face.

At the moment, he was a bit grateful for the anonymity. He was able to work in peace without strange looks—or being rejected in the first place because everyone thought he was supposed to be missing or dead—and he could walk around without really caring about how others saw him. It was also nice to roam the streets of Tokyo with Akira after a long shift and eat street food until it was much too late.

That actually happened to them once. "Oh, _shit._ " Akira checked his phones. "The trains are closing."

Akechi shoved his things back into his bag and stared at the plate of takoyaki that they've barely touched. "I don't think I can do this."

"What the hell are you talking about? We're going to be stranded here all night if we don't move now," said Akira, but he stared longingly at the takoyaki for a moment. _Be strong, Akira._

"I can't waste perfectly good takoyaki! _Especially_ after that nightmare you fed me during your school festival." Akechi shuddered. "I will never forgive you for that."

"That was entirely your fault. You weren't even supposed to eating our food," Akira shot back. They were at a deadlock.

The gruff man behind the stall cleared his throat. "Trains just closed, kids."

Akira tossed his bag at Akechi and sat back down on the stool. " _You're_ paying for the love hotel."

 _"L-love hotel?!"_ Akechi sputtered. "Couldn't you at least suggest a manga café?"

"Hotels are more expensive," Akira answered simply, but Akechi saw the small twitch at the corners of his mouth. He was enjoying this, of _course_ he was. The wicked glint in Akira's eyes as he teased Akechi reminded them both of how Joker was a facet of his personality and not a completely different person altogether.

Something popped up in Akechi's mind as they finished their food in companionable silence. Suddenly being stuck near the outskirts of Shibuya all night didn't seem too bad. "Actually, I have a better idea."

"I'm all ears," Akira said with a yawn. Akechi tugged at his arm and thanked the man who served their food before they left.

It was strange to suddenly walk these streets again, but he had watched the scenery change bit by bit in the two years that he had lived here. Not much had changed in the two months that he avoided his old neighborhood.

As he walked side by side with Akira to his apartment—a place that wasn't really home but had to be—it felt strange to think that Yongen-Jaya was _his_ neighborhood now, that Leblanc's dusty attic was _his_ home. It felt oddly natural to think that way.

When he managed to find the tile where he hid his spare key behind and opened his old apartment for the first time in so long, it was… underwhelming, to say the least. He expected some sort of big reveal, muted ambient music playing in the background while the artificial light from the streetlamps filtered past his dusty blinds.

Instead, he got an apartment that almost seemed clinical in its emptiness. Akechi cleared it out a week after his last battle in the Metaverse. That week was meant for recovery, but he wallowed in self-pity and shame for most of it while trying to think of how to die as quietly as possible.

It wasn't a good place for him to stay, physically and mentally.

He also realized that Shido and his men must have realized he was missing in action, and they could easily send someone to pick him up or kill him if they sensed any hesitation. That was the thought that sprung him back into action, quickly destroying all evidence of his presence in the apartment. What he left in his wake was something that could have come straight out of a showroom.

"Very… _homey,_ " Akira said, and Akechi smacked the back of his head to get rid of his uncomfortable expression. "It's just as comfortable as a hospital waiting room."

"Sorry to disappoint," said Akechi, but he dropped his bag by the doorway and collapsed on the couch as he normally did. The futon by the corner was still there, and Akira poked around at the still-empty cupboards in his tiny kitchen. Everything was as Akechi left it. He expected some sort of bug or bomb, but maybe Shido's men really did leave him alone.

"Hey," Akira said softly, and that was when Akechi realized that he had dozed off for a bit. "I found some pillows and a blanket in your closet. I'll take the futon."

It didn't take long for Akechi to fall asleep again, but his dreams were constantly plagued by memories of his murders, of every awful thing he had done. For the longest time, those never haunted him. He thought it was because he was incapable of caring, and his conscience had no effect on him when his primary goal was to ruin his father's life, no matter what the cost.

Now that his mind wasn't clouded by anger, he felt his stomach churn at the expression of each of the shadows he had murdered in cold blood. He didn't even list down their names; the mere connection to them could incriminate him, but he knew each of their faces and the voice they made as they begged for their life once before having it snatched from them.

Akechi tossed out of bed and threw up in his tiny bathroom. Everything about this place reminded him of who he was and what he did. He stood in the doorway for the first time as a jaded teenager who received a prize for his first kill; he took requests and planned out hits in the kitchen; he pored over research and articles just to get an upper hand on his father on the coffee table for many late nights; he slept soundly on the floor even as he could hear the muffled screams of his targets from somewhere in Tokyo, one at a time.

He stared at his reflection in that bathroom once, bruised and broken beyond belief, and contemplated ending his life again and again and _again,_ but he could never do it. Spite was his only reason to live; _Shido will not outlive me, Shido will not outlive me, Shido will not outlive—_

"Holy shit," a voice whispered from right outside the bathroom. Akira kneeled beside him and wiped the corners of his mouth with a paper towel while rubbing his back. "Don't tell me you got bad takoyaki again."

Akechi actually chuckled. "No, nothing like that. I hate this place."

They stayed crouched on the bathroom floor, but neither said a word. "Do I have to—"

"No," said Akira. He stood up and offered a hand to a bewildered Akechi. "You don't have to explain yourself."

"I do," Akechi said as he took Akira's hand. "It's—"

"It's not easy for you to be here, I know," Akira interrupted. "This apartment is a lot like you. It's all cleaned up on the outside, but the memories of its past will always linger." He stared straight into Akechi's soul. "Everything about your past was awful. No matter how much you tried to cover it up, you couldn't change who you were and how you were. No matter how much you've cleaned up your act now, that won't erase what you did.

"This apartment once held you. It's witnessed you at your very worst, and memories of that time are tied to this place. I don't doubt that you feel uncomfortable here. It's a reminder of everything dark about you." Akechi bowed his head. "It's also a reminder of how much you're not the same person anymore. Isn't that a good thing?"

Akechi sighed. "Let's not kid ourselves; I'm still the same person."

"But you'd never go out there and do what you used to, right? Not even if you could?"

"Never."

Another moment of silence. "Come on," said Akira, "I'm willing to stay up until the first trains arrive if you don't want to go back to sleep."

"You don't have to, you know," Akechi said, but he appreciated the offer nonetheless. "How are you so good at reading me?"

Akira shrugged, but Akechi felt his discomfort at the question. "Maybe it's just easy for me to step into your shoes."

They played some old DVDs that Akechi would probably pay a fortune now to return, and Akira simply smiled and turned off the TV when he saw Akechi sound asleep on the other side of the couch, nose twitching as he dreamed in his sleep. They both needed their rest before they came home to a half a day of scolding from Sojiro.

… and that's certainly what they got the moment they stepped back into Leblanc a few hours after.

———

Akira didn't want things to end this way.

She had walked in as soon as they started setting up shop. Akechi was about to turn around and pleasantly tell their customer that they weren't open yet, but he stopped when he saw the shock turn into angry disbelief in Makoto's eyes. Akira was an unfortunate witness to their exchange.

He didn't want to be the person standing between Akechi and Makoto as they stared each other down in the middle of Leblanc. He didn't want to be the one telling Makoto to put her phone down and leave while she threatened to call the cops on Akechi.

"Look, Akechi," she said with a hard voice, "it's good that you're alive. You have no idea how guilty we were when we thought that we were unable to save someone yet again. But you realize that you _have_ to make amends for everything you've done, right?"

"I do," he said solemnly, and the response shocked Makoto.

"Then why? Why won't you let me do what I have to?" She stepped towards Akira. "And _you._ Why are you harboring a fugitive? We all agreed on this: we'll trust the adults. We'll stop taking things into our own hands. What changed?"

Akira grit his teeth. "It's not that simple—"

"It isn't! I know that!" Makoto's voice was rising now, a bit of her unreleased rage after losing her outlet as Queen. "It's definitely not easy to understand how you can obstruct justice for someone who killed Futaba's mom, Haru's dad, and _countless others._ Have you forgotten that?"

Akira snapped. "How could I? Do you think this is a forgive and forget situation?" Makoto winced. "That's not something you can erase, and that's not what I'm doing by keeping him here."

Akechi grabbed Akira's forearm. _"Stop this,"_ he said in a low voice.

"You barely know him. He's— I'm so sorry for the word, but he's a murderer." Makoto's voice was trembling now. So was Akechi's gaze. It _stung._ He knew it, he never denied it, but it was different when it was said right to his face. His grip on Akira's arm tightened.

That set something off inside Akira, a question that suddenly popped up.

"Tell me, Makoto: if I killed people the way he did, but you knew me the way you know me now, would you turn me in too?" Akira was shaking. "Would your knowledge of my being a _good person_ change the fact that what I did was wrong? Would you turn me in or would you still try to help me, try to _change_ me?"

Makoto couldn't look him in the eye. "I—"

"Why are you hesitating?" Akira's voice was deep, deadly. Akechi's squeezed his arm in warning. "You treated justice as if it were black and white just a moment ago."

Makoto's face hardened as they all stood tensely in the silence. She gripped the strap of her bag and turned to the door. "I get it. Figure yourself out, Akira. And you," she looked at Akechi blankly, "just—" She shook her head and walked out.

Akechi let go of Akira's arm as the front door closed and they were engulfed in silence again. Akira turned around to face him, shaking to the bones. "I… I've never said anything like that to my friends." He almost sounded _relieved_.

Akechi wasn't. "You're an idiot, do you know that?"

"What?" Akira looked up at him.

"Why'd you have to defend me like that?" Akechi almost sounded displeased, upset.

"Because I had to! She was about to call the cops on you!" Akira couldn't understand. Is this a stupid pride thing? He didn't protect Akechi because he thought that Akechi couldn't defend himself, but—

"This is too much," Akechi whispered.

"I don't understand you—"

"You shouldn't defend me!" Akechi suddenly said. "You shouldn't put me before your friends! They're _good_ people, the kind you should be around. And as much as I want to keep myself safe, no matter what she would say to the cops, even Shido's testimony wouldn't be enough to pin anything on me without a method or motive. You just endangered your friendship for no good reason!"

Akira looked away. He _knew_ that. His nails were digging into his palms now, and he couldn't articulate just why he was so frustrated at Akechi's reaction to his outburst. A part of him thought that Akechi would be pleased, that he'd encourage him to show more of that side to everyone who thought he was some sort of paragon of goodness.

"But it goes deeper than that, doesn't it?"

Akira looked up.

"Everything you said earlier, those were your true fears, weren't they?"

Akira tried to turn away, but Akechi had a hand on his arm again. "You defended me because if you were really in the situation that you described, you'd want someone to be on your side too. Someone who probably doesn't understand everything you've done and why but would still believe in what goodness they can pull from within you." He squeezed once. "I understand."

Akira slid his hand up so that they were both holding each other's arms in tight grips. He was shaking again, but he didn't know where it was coming from now. "I still remember how I felt when I dealt with Kamoshida that first time. If I had slipped up, if my friends didn't know any other way, he would be gone now. _I'd be a murderer too._ "

"But you didn't," Akechi said. "Does the mere thought of that bother you so much?"

"It does," said Akira. "I just… want to be a good person."

Akechi's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about? Do you think that by having those thoughts, you're automatically on the path to being a monster?" Akira couldn't answer. "You… clearly lack faith in yourself."

Akira was taken aback. "What?"

"You never did any of those things you feared. Those thoughts came up because the atrocities they did were destroying the good world you wanted to preserve. But you— you don't have to try so hard. To be a good person, I mean."

Akira sighed and leaned his head on Akechi's shoulder. Akechi was surprised, but he slowly put his other arm around Akira's shoulders and pulled him closer. He leaned back on the shelves and slowly traced circles on Akira's back.

"My past is a part of me, and so is what I'm trying to do now," Akechi said quietly. Akira could feel his voice vibrating through his chest. "Your fears and your repressed feelings are all a part of you, but so is your kindness and everyone's attraction to you. I tried to force the idea of you hiding your true self, but that wasn't true. Every part of you is your real self; I'm sorry for trying to take that from you."

Akira smiled. "This wasn't supposed to be about me."

"What do you mean?" Akechi asked. Akira pulled back a bit to look him in the eyes, but something about the soft way Akira looked at him made Akechi's tension melt away. They were physically close, yes, but they felt a lot closer than just that.

"Letting you stay here was for me to help you, not the other way around," Akira said.

Akechi chuckled. "Well, you've done what you could."

"How are you so good at reading me?" The smile on Akira's face was bittersweet but genuine.

"Maybe it's just easy for me to step into your shoes," Akechi mirrored Akira's statement the other night, returning a sheepish smile.

"And thank you for that. Now maybe you'll see that you have a bit of goodness in you too— a lot of it, if you dig deeper." Akira slid his hand down to hold Akechi's. "You might see it as weakness, but it makes you human. I like you that way."

Akechi rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks?"

Akira snorted and stepped away from him, but the mood between them became a lot lighter. "I'm going to call Makoto later. We're going to patch things up."

"Good," Akechi said. "I'd hate to come between you and your friends."

"You… can be part of that, you know," Akira said sheepishly, but Akechi's steely expression told him enough. It wouldn't happen.

"After what just happened, I don't think they'll like me so much."

That was Akechi's thought for most of the day. When he looked down at his phone after receiving a message from an unknown number, he knew what he had to do.

_I can't cause any more trouble for you._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we've hit the halfway mark of the fic!!! this was definitely dark for them, but they got a lot of their internal issues out and now it's time for them to figure out their ~other issues~  
> thank you for all the support you've given this fic (200+ kudos ?? how ????) and i hope you all continue to stick around for the 2nd half of the fic!!!! we will definitely start to explore the possibilities of their relationship from now on ;)  
> (follow me on [tumblr](http://amenochieienn.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/amenochieien/)!!)


	5. 03/05 - 03/10

** 03/05 – 03/10 **

Akira hadn't been sleeping well lately. He didn't know if it was the weather or his old mattress or the weird atmosphere whenever he was in the same room as Akechi. Morgana had curled up on his chest one night after he noticed that Akechi wasn't on his futon. It wasn't even unfolded from its place at the foot of Akira's bed. "He's gone," Morgana said, yawning and kneading at Akira's blanket.

Akira shrugged. "He's probably working a late shift."

The urgency didn't kick in until much later, when the distinct lack of Akechi's presence in the room stopped Akira from getting any sleep. He gently took Morgana off his chest and took his phone with him as he went downstairs. He knew he said that he would let Akechi live his life, run away if he wanted to, but something was awfully _strange_ about his behavior for days now.

Akira remembered the inviting warmth of Akechi's body against him when he leaned his head on Akechi's shoulder and allowed himself to be pulled closer. He remembered Akechi's scent, the vibrations travelling down his body as he spoke in a soft tone, and the welcomed intimacy of their touch. Akira didn't even consider it a breakthrough; he didn't care about that. He just wanted _more._

And that was a _dangerous_ thought. Now he was stuck in Leblanc's restroom, making call after call to Akechi's phone. By the thirteenth, he stopped. Akira wanted to leave a text, ask him if this was final, ask if he ever thought about staying permanently, ask when he planned on coming back _—please come back—_

Another dangerous thought. He stifled it before it drove him mad.

Sojiro woke Akira up from his extended nap on the bar stool with his head on the counter. He looked around, noted Akira's dark circles and tightly clutched phone, and then he sighed. "He left, didn't he?"

Akira nodded, shame and worry flooding his thoughts. "Yeah. Sorry for the trouble."

"Is he coming back?" Sojiro asked as he tied his apron behind his back.

Akira looked down at his phone. Still no reply. "He could."

"Are you going to look for him?"

"I shouldn't," Akira said, but Sojiro saw right through him.

"Will you?"

Akira's hand was shaking. _He_ set those rules, _he_ said Akechi could live his life how he wanted to, but _he_ was the one who came too close to the fire, basking in the warmth that he grew too attached to. A few weeks ago, maybe he wouldn't care. He would let Akechi walk out and simply accept him if he ever came back, all without a word. Now he had a friend. Now he worried.

Now he knew what he had to do.

"I'm leaving Morgana with Futaba today," was all he said before he got ready for his day and went out without looking back.

As much as he scolded Akechi for never having a plan, he realized as he stepped out into Shibuya station that he had no idea where to start looking. It was a Sunday, so he knew that Akechi had a shift in the beef bowl shop later in the afternoon, but his daytime was usually spent working in the flower shop or at the diner.

"Oh, are you looking for Akechi?" the assistant asked when he noticed Akira loitering about. Akira looked hopeful for a second, but something about her expression worried him further. "He hasn't been coming in for the past few days. A lot of customers miss his special message bouquets. Were you hoping to get one made too?"

 _"Past few days?" But he said he had been working all the time,_ Akira thought to himself. Akira saw his exhaustion as he came home one night and even offered him a cup of coffee, just like the good old days, but Akechi just laughed at the notion.

 _"There was nothing good about those old days,"_ Akechi said. Akira placed the cup in front of him before he could say anything self-deprecating. Still, he took a grateful sip and smiled. Akira saw a glimpse of the gloved boy sitting by the counter from all those months ago, smiling but hiding a dark secret behind his eyes. Now Akira was living with him, and he was free from all the restraints of his lies and deceit.

As Akira sat in the diner, hopelessly waiting for someone who he knew wouldn't appear out of nowhere, he wondered if that boy was truly gone.

———

He wasn't.

He stumbled into Leblanc with blank eyes and a slow gait, just as he did twenty-three days ago. Akira gripped a knife when he saw the seemingly-drunken movements of a stranger in the café, but his tension melted away when he saw the familiar warmth of Akechi's hair color and the coat that they once bought together in a thrift store somewhere in Shinjuku.

It shot right back up when Akechi leaned against a table, looked up at Akira, and smiled despite the bruises all over his face and neck and the cut on his forehead.

Akechi cleared his throat. "I—"

Akira raised a hand to stop him. "Wait." He rummaged through the cupboards and drawers looking for a first aid kit somewhere. "Lean back. Don't move _._ "

Akira handed Akechi an ice pack and placed the kit he found on the table behind him. "Hold that against your cheek, give me some space, and _then_ you talk."

Akechi sighed as Akira went over his injuries: bruises everywhere, a swollen cheek, a cut on his forehead, more bruises on his neck, _more_ bruises on his knuckles, and—as Akira gingerly lifted Akechi's shirt— _even more_ bruises on his torso. Akechi sat on the table and spread his legs so that Akira could get close to his face and stitch the cut on his forehead. He performed it with shaky hands but a determination that kept him moving, probably used to the sight of those kinds of wounds on himself after their excursions in the Metaverse.

Inside, Akira was fuming. Akechi had the audacity, the _gall,_ to suddenly walk back into his home and sit there like a customer waiting to be served. He hated how calm Akechi was, as if it were like coming home after a long day of work instead of five days of Akira worrying in silence.

Most of all, Akira hated himself for letting Akechi in so easily, like someone who he had been waiting to come home to— _just please come home._

Akechi hissed when Akira accidentally tugged on his skin too harshly. He had his head bowed and his hand balled into a fist on his lap while the other gripped the ice pack tightly. "Hurts," he whined.

"Wouldn't need this if you hadn't walked into trouble again," said Akira, not needing to know the whole story to get the gist of it just by treating Akechi's injuries. He cut the string and looked for the ointment that he could spread on Akechi's bruises.

It was strangely intimate to hold Akechi's face made sure to cover each bruise with an even layer of ointment. Akechi winced and clenched his teeth, but as Akira's warm hand settled on his cheek, he leaned the slightest bit into his touch, sighing as his bruises were lightly pressed on. Akira wanted it to sting a bit, to punish him for whatever recklessness he committed, but he couldn't deny the satisfaction he felt as Akechi simply melted, comforted by his presence.

"You want to know why I came here," Akechi said. He didn't need to ask. He was right either way.

"You got beaten up. I can see that," Akira said, but Akechi shook his head.

"Not that, but why I came here in the first place."

Akira stepped back and sat on a barstool facing Akechi. "Go on."

Akechi sighed. "After months of observing you and staying with you, I knew where you and your friends often stayed. I knew where Shido's men would try to look for me, and I knew the places that I had to avoid if I wanted a chance of living. That forced me to stay… in the darker side of Tokyo."

Akira's look darkened. "Don't tell me—"

"I started at the outskirts. I didn't have a lot of resources, and I knew that my money was dwindling as I struggled to find a place to stay for more than a night or two at most. One day, I found myself in the perfect place at the perfect time, right in the middle of a mafia operation."

 _"Shit,"_ Akira said.

Akechi shrugged, but his eyes were as dark and empty as the husk of himself that they saw in Shido's palace. "All I had to do was point them at the right direction and wait for the screaming to realize what I've done."

Akira didn't know if he should keep listening or throw up already. Something about Akechi's detachment to his words made him feel sick, just as he did long ago when he stared at Akechi pointing a gun at his forehead.

Except this story wasn't being told by the same Akechi. It didn't even seem like it was about _that_ Akechi. It was a story that starred someone who just wanted to keep himself alive after staring death in the face.

"For my invaluable help, they offered me some money and a place to stay. Being the idiot that I was, I took everything I could get," Akechi said with remorse. "I stayed at a motel they operated in, one that was in a neighborhood they controlled. Essentially, I was at the belly of the beast, and I knew that there was no way out.

"To serve as payment for my stay, all I had to do was keep my eyes peeled and my ears on the ground. I took odd jobs here and there, mostly to get the information that the boss needed for his hits. When they told me that it was enough, I would leave the place and keep myself locked up until they told me they needed my 'expertise' for another job."

"And you just agreed to it?" Akira asked.

"I didn't have much of a choice," Akechi muttered, and he glared at Akira when he shot him that exasperated expression again. "Don't give me that _'yes, you did'_ crap. I was out on the streets for several days and unable to find any source of income when they got me. You've never experienced being completely alone in a world that was coming after you, and I didn't know it would lead to all of that." He clenched his fists. "It kept me alive. I'm not proud of it, but I was grateful for the chance."

Suddenly, a fear crept up in Akira's thoughts. "And why'd you run away?"

Akechi looked away. "One day, they ran out of pawns to move around. Boss called me into his room personally and gave me a pistol, asked if I knew how to use it."

"Please don't tell me—"

"You don't have enough faith in me," Akechi said with a smile, but Akira's unsaid assumptions must have stung. "I turned him down, said I wasn't here to participate in that side of the business."

The feeling of dread intensified. "And their response?"

"They… pointed their guns at me," Akechi said, blank stare and all. "They said I was either with them or against them, so I just said I wanted out." There was real fear in Akechi's eyes when he looked at Akira again. "They listed down all my debts, said I had a month to pay them back, _with_ an interest rate. An exorbitant one.

"I left the motel with nothing but the clothes on my back, and I knew that I was screwed. I couldn't ask the police for protection, I had no place to stay and no means of getting any of that money, and I had nowhere to run," Akechi said.

"So tell me," Akira leaned forward, "why'd you run to me?"

Akechi smiled. "First, I had to stay as far away as possible from that neighborhood. Maybe they thought I would try banging at the walls there or just giving up, but I wasn't going to play their game with their home advantage. Second…"

The earnest look in Akechi's eyes melted Akira's hostility yet again. "I couldn't trust anyone else but you."

It pained Akira to hear it, to _want_ to believe it. "You don't mean that."

"I do." It looked like it pained Akechi to admit it. "I didn't have friends from school. The police might have been after me. I didn’t have any other contacts. Your friends—" Akechi's gaze hardened. "You were the only person who sounded like you meant what you were saying. That you wanted to help me and give me a chance. Everyone else was doing it because they didn't want to fight me. You sounded like you wanted to _save_ me.

"I hated you for that," Akechi said honestly. "I didn't deserve to be saved, not with the way I was then."

"You don't mean that—"

 _"I do,"_ Akechi said harshly. "Don't try to convince me that I didn't deserve to die. Things are different now. Things were different when I walked in here, and things have changed even since then."

"So you were working all those jobs just to pay off your debt? How did you know that it was going to be enough?" Akira remembered scolding Akechi one night when he came home after a full day of working several jobs with less than an hour in between each. Akechi endured it even if his body just wanted to collapse, but Akira couldn't watch him kill himself like that. He didn't _know_ it was because of a debt that his life literally depended on.

"I didn't," Akechi looked away. "I played with fire a bit, dabbled at gambling."

"Oh god," Akira pressed his palms against his eyes, "you've got to be kidding me. _How_ is that even slightly helpful in your situation?"

"I played it _safe,_ " Akechi hissed. "You think I went out there and bet everything I had on chance? Do you think I _wanted_ to resort to that?" He shook his head. "I just wanted to be free. I spend every day watching my back, making sure no one was following me when I came back here. I didn't want to bring any danger to you or Sakura."

"Thank you," Akira said. "You could have asked for help though. I would have loaned you as much as I had to get you out of there."

Akechi shook his head. "And what? Implicate you if something happened? You had _nothing_ to do with the mess I created, and I wanted to keep it that way."

"So the reason you were acting weird for several days was because your deadline was almost up?" Akira asked.

"No. They found me."

The dread sank deep into Akira's stomach. "They… found you here?"

"In Shibuya, thank goodness." Akechi was shaking again, but he had a grimace that showed that he was trying his best not to let his own fear creep into his words. "Said they had been looking for me, hoping to get early installments on my debt. I made sure to lose them on the way here.

"I managed to scrape up just enough to pay them off. The other day, I went back to that neighborhood and presented myself," he smiled, "like a _fucking idiot._ "

Akira winced. "What happened?"

"They took the money, said I was free to go," Akechi snorted, "and I actually believed it."

This time, Akechi started shaking uncontrollably, and Akira couldn't stop himself from walking forward and grasping him by the shoulders. He winced, probably because of an unseen bruise, but Akira couldn't let him break down like this. "Akechi? Stay with me, come on."

"I know, I know," Akechi whispered, but he had his eyes closed. Something _awful_ happened, and it made Akechi like this— a bumbling mess who couldn't stare Akira in the eyes as soon as he forced himself to try and recall it. Akira was careful as he slid his hands down, grasping Akechi's and rubbing his thumb over the bruised knuckles.

 _"Goro,"_ Akira whispered, and that made the other boy sit completely still. They were close, so close, but Akira wouldn't stop until he felt that Akechi was ready to peel back his layers and tell Akira what made him like this. "Can I call you that?" Akira said with a soft voice.

"I haven't heard that since… my mother," he replied with a bittersweet smile.

That thought scared Akira. No one attempted to get close to him ever since he was a child, and he was thrusted into a dangerous world and forced to think of only his self-preservation. It made Akira feel sick.

"You're safe now," Akira said. "You're safe _here,_ with me."

 _"I know,"_ Akechi said. Eventually, he held Akira's hands with a tight grip. He was ready.

"They led me downstairs, full entourage and all. I refused to ignore my worries and went along with it. When we got to the lobby, there were guards blocking the entrance. I asked why, and they said there were too many witnesses if they did it outside." Akechi's grip tightened. "They drugged me and threw me in a basement."

Akira's eyes were tightly shut. He knew what that felt like: the helplessness, the physical and mental exhaustion, the thought that he could just _die_ and no one would know. _Oh god,_ he thought to himself. He almost wished he didn't ask to hear the story.

"They beat me up, over and over again. They barely fed me and kept me in the dark. I'd say that was around three days," Akechi said, voice wavering at every word. "I asked what they wanted from me, what they planned on doing to me. They got their money, so what was the point in keeping me there?"

Akechi's smile was chilling. "They just wanted to play with their food before they ate it. They were planning on killing me by the time I asked."

"How did you get away?" Akira asked.

"Pure luck." Akechi shrugged. "I figured out their routine, and managed to make a run for it as they gave me my meal for the day. I had to fight my way out," Akechi looked down at his hands, "and I wasn't very good at it, but I made it out," he said with a broken laugh. "I made sure they didn't follow me, even got myself cleaned up as much as I could. That's why it took me so long to get back here."

"And are you ok?" Akira pulled back to look at him, _really_ look at him.

Besides the bruises and the cuts—physically, mentally, and emotionally—was he alright?

"I'm alive," was Akechi's only response.

Akira's only true moment of pure fear was when Akechi pulled the trigger at him, but when he opened his eyes and realized he was still alive, he knew that their plan worked and he had others to support him. When Akira made it out of that interrogation room, he was assisted by Sae, welcomed home by all his friends, and protected by Sojiro.

Akechi… was alone. Even when he had Akira, he refused to involve him. He refused to ask for help even if he needed it. Everything he worked for backfired on him, and he faced death yet again. How can someone even _pretend_ to be alright?

Akira wound his arm around Akechi's waist and used the other hand to pull Akechi's head down against his shoulder. Akechi resisted at first, but Akira wouldn't budge. "Be honest with me," he whispered. "You're safe here."

That's all it took for Akechi to crack, like a dam holding back years of exhaustion and resentment and fear finally _bursting._ He clutched Akira's shirt and cried, pressing his forehead against Akira's chest and pulling him closer and closer until his body leaned on Akira for support.

_"I was so, so scared."_

And this was _exactly_ what Akira wanted. He wanted Akechi to trust him, _finally,_ with something deeper than the surface of his emotions. For the first time in his life, Akechi finally had someone to lean on. Akira held him close until his shirt was damp with the frustrated tears of someone who didn't _want_ to show weakness, but also someone who learned to acknowledge that he _had_ one in the first place.

"I didn't want to die like that," he mumbled. "I _need_ to live. I've never wanted that before."

Akira was rubbing circles on his back now, and he was shocked when Akechi moved his head up and rested his chin on Akira's shoulder, pulling him in for a full hug. _"Please stay,"_ Akira said, desperation leaking from his voice.

"Please," he whispered, "you'll be safe here. Please."

 _For once in my life, I just want someone to_ want _to stay in my life. Not out of obligation, not out of pity, but because they want me in their life. My friends care, my friends want me, but I want—_

It struck Akira that Akechi was pulling away. His mind was on overdrive, going through all the scenarios where Akechi would leave then die on the streets or vanish again, and Akira would be left alone, just because he asked for something so simple yet so difficult for someone like Akechi.

Then Akechi withdrew his touch. Akira froze up, not liking the direction of his movements. He wanted to be selfish, pull Akechi back in so he could inhale his scent and be wrapped in his warmth again. Once again, Akechi managed to turn the tables on him when he least expected it. Now he was the one who needed someone to lean on, like a drowning man gasping for air.

"Your turn, Akira," Akechi said as he cupped Akira's face with both hands then slipped back to tangle his fingers in his dark locks. "Be honest with me. Tell me why you want me to stay."

_Because I want you._

The answer was so simple, came so quickly in Akira's mind. Akechi tugged slightly at his hair, and the tension pulling his head back only made him want to surge forward and kiss Akechi even more.

So he did.

There was no transition, no awkward pause before Akechi kissed back with fervor and Akira's hands snaked around Akechi's waist. His toes curled as he felt Akechi's soft lips curl into a smile when Akira made the move to lick the seam of his lips with a hot swipe of his tongue. Akira made a sound, something between contentment and a deep moan, when Akechi's hands started to scratch at his scalp.

They pulled apart to breathe, but Akira didn't have enough time to observe his work before Akechi leaned forward again and rubbed the bridge of his nose against Akira's. His breathing hitched when Akira turned his head and pressed against a healing bruise, but it was muffled by Akira lifting himself slightly on his toes to reach Akechi's bottom lip and bite softly, enough to make Akechi moan before they kissed again, for much longer this time.

It was stupid to think of how much Akira _wanted_ this. More than the kiss, more than the warmth— Akechi's blissful smile against his lips was enough to make him feel wanted. Akechi wanted him just as much as he wanted Akechi.

And if Akechi really wanted an answer to his question, Akira wanted Akechi to stay because he was the only person who's seen every side of him without flinching. Makoto got a glimpse of it and she walked away. Everyone else was too busy glorifying him to see that he just wanted to be true to himself, all sides of himself.

He wanted Akechi to stay because he wanted to be wanted. It wasn't because Akechi was weak without him; it wasn't because they depended on each other in any way. It was because Akechi refused to tell him anything about his true situation just to _protect_ him and the people he cared for. It was because Akechi trusted him even if there was no guarantee that Akira would still be the same person who looked past his crap and still saw someone worth saving.

He wanted Akechi to stay because he was sick of being lonely. Being surrounded by people who loved the presentable side of him was nice, but laughing with Akechi, walking around, buying food, and joking around with him was _so much_ better. A few weeks living with him made his home feel like a real home, and it was selfish to say that he wanted to feel comfortable and whole with Akechi.

All his reasons were selfish. Wanting Akechi to stay was selfish. Wanting _him_ —as a person, as a friend, as anything more—it was all selfish.

_For once, let me be selfish._

"Ouch," Akechi groaned as he pulled away from Akira. _Oh god, did I do something wrong? Did I bite too hard or—_ "You're pressing on my bruise."

Akira quickly let go of Akechi's sides and rubbed the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly but secretly pissed at himself for ruining the moment. Akechi's smile was so wide as he laughed at Akira's embarrassment, so different from the fear and hesitation that hung over him earlier.

Akira thought it would be weirder, more awkward. He expected Akechi to shove him away and put his walls up as a customary behavior. He thought it would be difficult to get to this point, but even more difficult to get Akechi to acknowledge it.

Maybe if they didn't take their time with it, Akechi would react exactly as Akira thought he would. It wasn't strange to remember the moments when Akechi got under his skin and made Akira crave for some kind of contact with him, either a punch to the gut or a kiss on the mouth. If they succumbed to that kind of tension, maybe it would have taken even longer for Akira to get Akechi to trust him this way.

Instead, Akechi pinched his side _really hard_ in retaliation for the pain Akira caused him in the excitement of their kiss. Akira attempted to get revenge, but the slightest touch on Akechi's tender skin was enough to cause him to crumple into himself. They laughed it off, and they both felt so… content.

"Hey, Goro." The name rolled off Akira's tongue strangely, but it fit.

He perked up at the sound of his name. "Yeah?"

"Don't leave," Akira said.

Ake— _Goro_ smiled and slid off the table. He hugged Akira and kissed the shell of his ear as their bodies slotted perfectly together. "I won't," he whispered. Akira hoped he meant it. "Now let's go to bed."

Akira grinned against Goro's shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! to apologize for the cliffhanger, i wrote a p long update and posted it extra early hehe  
> well. it had to happen EVENTUALLY (and i'm leaving that ending up to your interpretation [wink face])  
> hope you're all still interested in the story and what's going to happen next (spoiler alert: there are still 3 more chapters, 3 more opportunities to cause drama [sad wink face])  
> thank you for reading!! (follow me on [tumblr](http://amenochieienn.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/amenochieien/)!!)


	6. 03/11 - 03/15

** 03/11 – 03/15 **

Goro woke up with a jolt. All his senses were heightened as he looked for the source of dim light in the large room, pressing his back against the wall as his fingers clutched the sheets on top of him, vision shaking as he anticipated the footsteps of the thug patrolling outside his room, waiting for him to make noise so he knows when to start beating him with a stick again—

Wait. Source of light. Actual clean sheets. No footsteps from outside the narrow crack under the door. A warm body in front of him, snoring softly with his mouth agape and his hand on Goro's. _You'll be safe here,_ and Goro felt that.

The tension stringing Goro's body up must have woken Akira up, and he groaned and stretched before turning to his side and smiling sleepily at Goro. "Hey. Why're you up? It's…" he looked at the light filtering from the blinds, "too early."

Goro snorted. "For you, maybe."

Akira chuckled before moving closer— _carefully,_ as he tried to avoid Goro's injuries—and pressing a kiss against a sensitive spot below Goro's jaw that they both just discovered last night. Goro weakly pushed him away, but he was grinning by the time he was able to maneuver himself on his back.

"Do you… know where you're going to stay?" It was an innocuous question, but Goro knew where the conversation was headed. Just last night, he promised he would stay. Then it dawned on him that he made the effort to avoid leading people to Leblanc for a reason.

"A friend. He has an apartment in Yokohama he agreed to let me stay in," said Goro.

"Wait. You have friends?" That earned him a sharp glare and a smack on the head, enough to make him reel back and roll away. "It was a _valid question._ "

Goro rolled his eyes. "I met him through work. He moved to Tokyo a few months ago and hasn't been back there in a while."

"Should I be jealous?" Akira asked with deadpan voice. They stared at each other seriously for a few seconds before they both burst into laughter, Akira almost falling off the small bed while Goro kept kicking at his shins.

"Don't be stupid," Goro said, but he was still grinning as he placed an arm over Akira's waist. He buried his head in the crook of Akira's shoulder and hummed softly.

"How's your cheek?" Akira asked, breathy and soft as the close proximity made his heart race.

"Better," said Goro. The lamp at the foot of the bed caught his attention.

Akira normally liked sleeping in the dark, said it made it easier for him to fall asleep faster. When they were both too tired to even kick the covers off their sweaty bodies, Goro closed his eyes and felt his throat seize up at the darkness, too familiar with the panic of his imminent death looming over his head. Akira noticed, kissed his non-swelling cheek, and looked for a lamp that they could leave on for the night.

It was… sweet. A small kindness. The reason why Goro found it so difficult to tell Akira that he couldn't actually stay.

The silence stretched out for too long, and Goro knew he had to say something. "I'll only be gone for a few days."

"And what will you be doing?"

Goro shrugged. "Wait for it to blow over, probably. And _please,_ " Goro pulled back to look him in the eyes, "don't get on my case about not having a plan. I do."

"What do I do if you die?" Akira didn't mince his words.

"… Proceed as usual."

 _"Akechi,"_ Akira warned, "you're not answering the question."

Goro sighed, and Akira felt his icy walls start to rise again. _Not again._ "I meant what I said. What do you expect me to tell you? Mourn for me? Avenge my mistakes?"

"At least—" Akira played with Goro's hair as he looked for the right words to say. "Reassure me. Tell me you'll come back. _In one piece._ "

Goro averted his eyes. "I can't lie to you."

Akira sat up, leaning back against the wall. "If there's an idiot here, it's you." He shook his head and held his knees close to his chest. "Coming in here, all beaten up and bruised, making me kiss you— what the hell was that for then?"

Goro sat up too, still not meeting Akira's eyes. Akira reached out and held his forearm, eyes still glued to the sheets beneath them. "Fine. Don't promise." This was what brought their gazes together. "Just do what you have to do, and then come home."

Goro took Akira's hand and linked their pinkies loosely. "No promises, but I'll do my best." He kissed Akira's fingers before slipping out of bed, putting on his clothes, and going downstairs.

Akira checked the time, groaned at the bright light from his phone, and sank back into bed. They would figure it out eventually.

———

Akira handed the phone back to Goro, and they nodded at each other before Goro zipped his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Goro had tossed his phone when he received calls and messages from the thugs that were able to track him down. At least it made Akira feel better after not having any of his messages answered for nearly a week.

Goro scrolled through the short contact list. "Whose numbers are on this? Yours, Sojiro's, and… Sae's?"

"Just in case you need a lawyer," Akira said. He stood by the kitchen sink, avoiding Goro's gaze yet again. "Speaking of Sae, I'm meeting her today. We're going over the—"

Goro perked up. "You're meeting with Sae today?" He opened his bag and dug through it, and then he brought out an envelope. He handed it to Akira. "Could you do me a favor?"

Akira's eyes widened as he opened the envelope and saw lists of names, addresses and maps with marks all over Tokyo, and other notes and pictures that depicted crime in Tokyo's nightlife. "Give it to Sae. Say it's an anonymous tip," said Goro, smirking as Akira went through all the evidence he spent months collecting.

"You're… brilliant," Akira said. "But if you had this evidence all this time, why didn't you report it instead of paying those assholes and almost losing your life?"

Goro sighed. "I thought about that, but I didn't have a witness that would confirm this faction's connection to the drug ring operating in Shibuya."

"Wait, drugs in Shibuya?"

"Yes, Kaneshiro's old territory." Goro fiddled with the fit of the gloves he was wearing. The familiar sight of him tugging on his gloves made something in Akira's stomach churn.  The glint in his eyes and the cunning tone reminded Akira of just how powerful Goro's mind was and how his brilliance shined during his days as an ace detective. Goro looked like the Akechi that used to be their customer at Leblanc, the one that caused the injury and deaths of so many, the one—

 _Enough._ Goro needed to protect himself out there. The gloves helped keep him grounded, guarded in a foreign place. He was a boy with a dark past that he was trying to move on from, and he had a dark cloud hanging over his head and a whirlwind that was actively seeking him as they spoke.

They also kept him warm, which was probably the primary reason why he started wearing them again.

"I spent a lot of time putting that together. Tell her to make good use of it," Goro said. He secured the bag behind him and walked towards Akira, but his steps faltered. "… Take care."

"Call me every now and then," Akira said. He closed the distance between them and kissed him softly again. Goro's flesh was a little less tender, and Akira could wrap his arms around Goro's torso tighter now. "I'll take care of the business here, call you if any news comes out about the mafia."

"Thank you," Goro said, "for everything."

Goro had his hands at the sides of Akira's neck as he pressed their lips together again, humming softly as Akira's hands wandered below the small of his back. As Akira gripped his ass snugly, Goro took that as his sign to pull away and smack Akira's hands away.

 _"Goodbye,"_ Goro said with a cheeky grin. "I'll take care of myself, I promise."

Akira simply waved goodbye as Goro walked away, loneliness and anxiety creeping into his mind. He adjusted his glasses. Goro told him to proceed as usual, regardless of whatever his fate may be, so… that'll have to do.

A few minutes later, Akira received a message from a new number.

_"After all of this is over, let's go out properly. I'll treat you to steak, no discount involved."_

Akira grinned.

_"I'm looking forward to that."_

———

Sae missed Leblanc. She always loved the coffee, the atmosphere, Sojiro's distant but kind silence, and every little detail about it. The homey feeling of a café that was out of her usual territory was her break from the stifling walls of her office and the courthouse.

Akira served her usual coffee, though it was a little sweeter than Sojiro's blend. They had the café to themselves for the morning while Sojiro went out to take care of some business. Sae took another sip before laying out all of the documents she needed to confirm with Akira.

"So," Sae started, "ten more days."

Akira didn't look happy about it. Sae understood. After digging to fully understand Akira's home situation and being surprised to see that he didn't list his father's house as his residence anymore, Sae realized that Tokyo was more welcoming for Akira than Okina ever would be. Unfortunately for him, both his parents expressed their desire for him to live in Okina.

Akira was outraged when he heard it. Neither of them expressed any concern about him for years on end, but _suddenly,_ they felt the urge to pull him back into a life that he hated. He hasn't even _seen_ his mom since she left them; why did she care about where he was living?

It turns out she had an apartment that she was maintaining near the city center. It would be more insulting to Akira's father to know that his son was living in the same city but apart from him in a home provided and paid for by his distant wife.

Akira hated them both, but he couldn't say no to free lodging.

"Are you making the most of your days here?" Sae said while taking hold of the files regarding his lifted probation. She sighed and bowed her head slightly. "I'm sorry. I really tried to convince them that you're better off situated here, but they wouldn't listen."

"It's okay. I'm not surprised," said Akira. He sat down across her in the booth and folded his hands on the table. "Alright. What's this about?"

"I just need to brief you on all the details of your return." She cleared her throat. "You're still legally under your father's care, but you're free to move as soon as you turn twenty or if he gives you permission. If you don't comply with that, you'll be taken under child services, which I _do not_ recommend."

The pointed stare made Akira laugh. "I get it. I won't run."

"Thank goodness," Sae said with her fingers on her temples. "Your probation officer was concerned about your reception to all this news, especially given your history with rebellion."

 _"'History with rebellion?'"_ Akira snorted. "Okay, that guy really has to get off my ass about that _one time—_ "

"You refused to eat lunch for almost an entire week because you didn't want to eat the beans they served in juvenile detention," Sae said with a deadpan voice. Akira laughed at the thought of it; he honestly just wanted to piss the lunch lady off.

"I promise to take care of myself," Akira said, still laughing at how exasperated Sae was.

She flipped through another stack of papers. "Your mother promised to pay for your rent and bills for until you become of age. As for school, you'll still be in the same academy that you went to before. You'll be transferring at the start of the school year as a third-year student.

"You're scheduled to leave on March 20. Will your friends be sending you off?"

Akira smiled, remembering how they argued over what vehicle to rent. Ryuji wanted something flashy, Yusuke refused to chip in any more than what they originally told him, and Makoto just wanted something that she already knew how to drive. They reserved a relatively newer model of the bus that Morgana imitated in the Metaverse.

As Akira recalled their exchange, he felt himself crumble. They were going to send him off, help him move in, and then they would leave again. He could just imagine the teary goodbyes, then the radio silence as they all slowly drift apart with the distance. As much as they said they wanted Akira to stay, he couldn't blame them for what he knew was going to happen.

Morgana was coming with him. It was always comforting to have him, knowing that someone was looking out for him in the small ways like reminding him to eat or go to sleep at a sane hour. Still, Akira felt himself wanting someone else to be the one to occupy the bland space that he would boxed in for _years_ until his parents left him alone—

"That's right. We're driving there," he said when he felt that the silence stretched out for a beat too long.

"Oh right, Makoto told me she'd be gone for a few days," said Sae, smiling softly. "Well, is there anything you'd like to ask about your move? Details, clarifications, things you'd like to be moved from here to there or from your father's house?"

Akira knew it was the perfect time. "None of the sort. I think I'll be fine." He stood and took the envelope from behind the counter. Sae raised her eyebrow when she saw it. "I have something for you."

"What's this?" Sae opened the envelope gently and checked its contents, creases on her forehead growing deeper as she processed all the information.

"An anonymous tip." Akira smiled when Sae finally understood what she was reading. "Names, dates, locations, and maps regarding a crime ring near the outskirts of Tokyo."

Sae let out a breath. "Wow, the police have been on their trail for so long. They wouldn't pay attention to any of their other operations whenever they got a whiff of this case." She looked back up at Akira, suspicious look on her face. "How'd you get this? Don't tell me you're getting into trouble again."

"I'm not," Akira said, though he didn't know if he was lying. "It's from an anonymous tip," he clenched his fists and mentally prepared himself, "and I'd like to claim a favor for him."

"Wait. The thoroughness of these reports and even the handwriting is familiar…" Realization dawned slowly on Sae's face. "Is this— from _Akechi Goro?_ "

She slammed the papers on the table, but Akira could clearly see her hands shaking. "You said he was dead!"

"We all thought he was," Akira said softly, "but he's not and he managed to get all that information. Now, he doesn't know this, but I need your help with something."

Sae rubbed her temples. "Alright, I'm listening."

"Go— Akechi… he was supposed to graduate high school this year, supposed to start university." Akira played with his apron. "But he can't do that, given his record. He can barely even go anywhere."

"And your point?"

Akira looked straight into her eyes. _Be determined, strong. Don't let her see how asking this of her terrifies you._ "He can't stay here, I know that, but he can move with me. There _must_ be a way to get him into Okina University somehow."

"He has no papers signifying that he completed high school, _and_ he's technically considered dead." Sae's eyes narrowed. "Are you telling me to _forge papers_ for him?"

Akira bowed his head. "Please, hear me out—"

"Look, as the prosecutor who handled Shido's case, I should be turning him in and questioning him by now," Sae said with a bitter tone. "And don't take me for a fool; Akechi couldn't have gotten this information just by listening and watching. He must have been involved in it somehow, which ties him to yet another crime."

Akira bit his lip. He knew it wasn't going to happen.

"If I get caught," Akira perked up, "it's over for me. I… haven't been an honest prosecutor, but I had the prosecutor's office to protect me if I ever got into any trouble. This is a personal favor. I'm going to have to pull a lot of strings to make this happen."

Sae compiled all the papers and slipped them neatly into her briefcase. "I need you to assure me that he is a good investment, _a changed person._ "

Akira nodded vigorously, head still bowed when he stopped. "He is. You can trust me on that."

"He did shoot you in the head," Sae murmured. "There are a lot of reasons why you shouldn't trust him, but you do. There must be some reason why you're asking for this."

Akira walked her to the front door. "Thank you," he said, but Sae shook her head.

"Don't thank me yet," Sae said. "I have other papers that you'll need when you move in, but I haven't gotten them yet. I'll drop by sometime this week, and we'll see if I have any good news for Akechi."

 _"Thank you,"_ Akira repeated softly.

———

_"Hey."_

Akira closed the restroom door behind him and smiled as he held the phone to his ear. "Hey. How's the apartment?"

 _"Good so far. I haven't felt anything weird, so I think it's safe,"_ Goro's crackly voice said. _"Did you give the papers to Sae yesterday?"_

"Yeah, I did." Akira still hadn't gotten any word from Sae, but he was hopeful that she was taking care of her business. "I was in Harajuku today and I heard some whispers about the police cracking down on a whole district. I'll assume that was due to your intelligence."

Goro sighed in relief. _"Thank goodness. I was worried it wouldn't pay off."_

"It did." Akira smiled. "You can come home now."

Goro chuckled softly, and Akira could almost see how he shook his head as he laughed. _"Not until the storm blows over."_

They stayed in silence for a while, holding their phones to their ears as they leaned back on a wall and wished that the other were on the opposite side, close enough to see and to touch. _"When I come back… I'll stop keeping secrets. I think it's time I gave that up."_

Akira thought about what he asked from Sae, the life he was building for Goro without even asking if it was what he wanted. It was an act of kindness, but Akira knew in himself that he just didn't want to let go of Goro too soon. If Akira could find a way to keep someone from this life, he would do anything to make it happen.

———

It was all over the news: _Massive crime ring operating in Tokyo completely rooted out by the police!_

Goro slid down against the wall in relief, smiling despite himself. Akira was eating his breakfast, sending a quick text under the counter as Sojiro glared at him for not eating his food.

Later that day, Sojiro tossed an apron at Goro as he walked into Leblanc with a tired smile. "Welcome back, kid. Get to work."

"Thanks, boss," Goro said. He dropped off his bag on the couch upstairs and was held in place by a warm body draped over his back.

Akira buried his nose in the crook of Goro's neck and breathed deeply. Goro leaned his head back and placed his hands over Akira's. "I'm glad you're safe," Akira whispered.

"I'm glad it's over," Goro replied. From behind him, Akira could see that Goro's cheek had gone back to normal and his bruises were starting to turn yellow.

Goro turned around and held Akira's face. Akira turned his cheek into Goro's palm and closed his eyes. "Let's go back down," whispered Akira, but something about the glint in his eyes made something warm rise from Goro's belly. _Is that a challenge?_

It was. They spent the rest of the day with light touches on each other's hands or waists as they passed by, followed by a smirk and an exasperated sigh from Morgana who was meowing all the way from Futaba's perch on the counter. After a particularly daring squeeze on his ass, Goro pulled out his phone and quickly sent, _"pls stop fucking with me,"_ to Akira.

Akira just laughed against the refrigerator and winked when he passed by. _Asshole._

When Sojiro left them to close up later that night, Goro pulled Akira into the kitchen by the shirt and kissed him deeply when they were out of sight. "You're insane," Goro whispered against Akira's mouth.

"You like it though," Akira said as he found the safe zones on Goro's waist. He grinned and pulled him in for another long kiss.

It had only been four days, but they oddly craved each other's touch. Goro found comfort in Akira's fluffy hair, always tangling his fingers into the dark locks or pressing his nose right above Akira's ear, just close enough for him to bite his earlobe whenever Akira's hands were wandering too far. Akira loved sinking down a bit and hiding his face in Goro's neck, trying to expand their miniscule height difference.

"Now I thought," Akira abruptly pulled away from Goro and they both bowed their heads, "this was a place of _business,_ " a familiar voice said from behind them. Akira turned around and smiled at Sae awkwardly.

"I see," she said dryly. Her eyes met with Akechi's. "Well, it's surprising to see you here, Akechi."

"You too, Niijima," Goro said quietly.

She shook her head. "Call me Sae. We've been through enough for you to at least deserve that."

Sae motioned to the door, Akira followed her after squeezing Goro's hand discreetly. Goro went back to the dishes they should have washed instead of embarrassing themselves like this.

"Now I know why you wanted this so badly," Sae said before giving Akira an envelope. "Inside is a copy of each of the documents you might need to present when you move in and when you come into school. Also," she looked at Goro who was busy in the kitchen, "have you told him?"

"Is there something to be said?" Akira asked cautiously.

Sae smiled, despite herself. "You underestimate me. I had to contact a lot of people, but yes, Akechi will be able to study in Okina."

Akira couldn't explain his happiness or his relief or his deep gratitude towards Sae. "Thank you," was all he could say, and Sae nodded in response.

"Take care of yourself." She caught Goro's attention, and they smiled at each other briefly. "I… wish you the best."

Goro bowed slightly as she left. "What was that about?" he asked Akira when the other boy joined him in cleaning up for the night.

"Just documents for my transfer back to Okina," Akira said.

"And are you okay with that?" Goro placed his hand on Akira's shoulder, just as he did all those nights ago in the diner when Akira bared his soul for the first time to someone.

Akira smiled. "I'll be fine now. But wait," his smile turned sinister, "I remember someone saying they'd treat me to steak when they get back from exile."

Goro rolled his eyes. " _Of course,_ that's what you remember."

They laughed and cleaned up quickly so they could catch a train to the diner in Shibuya. While they were on the streets, walking around with their hands subtly linked as Goro pointed at stalls and shops to go into, Akira's thoughts would often wander to the papers sitting on his bed at the moment. The thought that this night would just be one of their many nights together made each moment a little sweeter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel very soft and fluffy and weird  
> (also thank u for 300+ kudos?? i'm v confused but v v v grateful <333333)  
> pls scream at me, prompt me, or just chat in the comments (or on [tumblr](http://amenochieienn.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/amenochieien/)!!)


	7. 03/16 - 03/17

** 03/16 – 03/17 **

Akira left early in the morning to meet with Kawakami before classes started, so Goro was left alone in bed with Morgana curled up beside him. In a sleepy haze, Goro petted the cat's soft fur and Morgana responded positively in his sleep, purring as Goro scratched right behind his ear.

Goro laughed and got up as soon as Morgana came to and swiped his hand away. It felt strange to wake up without constantly watching his back. Goro got ready for his day and put on his apron as he went down to Sojiro who was cleaning up after his usual first customer of the day.

"Ah, good. Later, just watch over the store while I buy some groceries for Futaba," Sojiro said, putting on his usual hat and walking out into the chilly streets.

Everything seemed so… _normal._ It didn't feel like Goro was a free man, or he was in a relationship of sorts with Akira, or his dark past was somehow not coming to bite him in the ass. He welcomed customers and prepared curry and counted change as he always would. It was peaceful, yet unsettling.

Then came the afternoon. Akira and Sojiro still hadn't come back, Morgana was watching TV from his usual barstool, and Goro was stuck staring at the walls until someone arrived. Finally, the door opened, and Goro stood to greet the new customers—

_Well, it was bound to happen._

"Hey, boss! It's been a whi—" Ann held the door open for the longest time as she stared at Goro, and everyone else followed. Ryuji and Haru took up defensive stances, Yusuke gripped his bag tightly, and Makoto just stared and waited for everyone's reactions.

Unsurprisingly, Ryuji was the first one to step forward. _Surprisingly,_ he wasn't about to sock Goro in the face.

"What happened to your face?" Ryuji asked. "You look worse than the last time we saw you— you know, when we thought you _died._ "

Goro ran his fingers through his fading bruises, just a bit self-conscious. "Ah, I… got into trouble." He cleared his throat. "Welcome to Leblanc."

"You're kidding, right…" Ann said as her voice trailed off into nervous laughter. "I'm not the only one seeing him, am I?"

"I see him, alright," Haru said quietly. They all went in, sat at their usual booth, and _stared._ In silence. The silence was the worst part. Morgana went up to them and sat on Haru's lap.

"As much as I'd like to leave and give you some privacy, boss left me in charge of the café, so…" Goro rubbed the back of his neck, "may I take your orders?"

"One cup of the usual house blend," Makoto said.

"Make that two," Ann added.

"I'll have a plate of mild curry," said Ryuji.

Yusuke perked up. "Make that three."

 _"Three?"_ Ryuji asked. "Who else are you feeding? Also, are _you_ going to pay for that?"

Yusuke scoffed. "In my defense, I saved up for this occasion."

"Two full meals in one sitting. What an occasion." Ryuji sighed. "Let him be. What about you, Haru?"

Haru was staring pointedly at Morgana's tail. "I lost my appetite."

Goro sensed the atmosphere as soon as Ryuji mentioned Haru's name, and he knew he had to get out of this situation. He took his time with their orders, waiting until they all settled back into their usual conversations before he popped back in quickly to serve their food. It didn't really help; the moment he showed up, he only met silence.

"What… happened to you?" Ann asked, cautious with each word. They must remember how he rampaged at them, how they tried to reason with him but he refused to listen to any of them. "How'd you make it here?"

Goro continued wiping the counter to avoid making eye contact. "It's a long story, but I killed my double and made it out of Shido's palace. For a while, I was homeless. I ran into trouble and tried to hide here."

"And with that, you endangered Akira, boss, and Futaba," Yusuke said. He still seemed like he was sizing Goro up, which Goro completely understood.

"In a sense, yes. I took care of my business though, and it's all safe now," said Akechi, not sure if he was starting to sound defensive. He knew what it looked like; he was helpless, Akira was as accommodating as ever, and he disregarded others for his own self-preservation. He would let them think how they wanted to.

Makoto nodded to herself. Haru picked up on that immediately. "You don't seem surprised to see him here, Makoto."

"Ah, well," she briefly glanced up at Goro, "we've met before."

That caused some reaction from the rest of the group. "And you didn't tell us?" said Ann.

"It wasn't a good reunion." Makoto bit her lip. "I'm sorry for that."

"Me too," Akechi said with his eyes still glued to the floor. He wondered what changed. Why wasn't Makoto coming after him? Why weren't _any of them_ coming after him?

"That's done now." Makoto suddenly smiled behind her hand, and Goro knew she was about to say something awful. "I heard from my sister that you've settled well here." She waited to see the panic in Goro's eyes. "I'm happy for you two."

Oh, he _hated_ that smirk of hers. It didn't help that he was mere feet away from where Sae caught him and Akira in a compromising position just the night before. Why did the Niijima sisters always make him feel so mortified for existing?

Ryuji stretched and yawned. "Good for Akira; it must be nice not having to live alone with a cat all the time."

"Hey!" Morgana yelled. "I resent that."

They all laughed, and for a moment, Goro relaxed. When he met with Haru's blank eyes, Goro knew he was wrong about one thing today: his past would always come to bite him in the ass.

Luckily, Sojiro came back before the conversation could somehow drift into Haru's control. He was carrying a large bag, and as Goro came to help him carry it into the kitchen, he was surprised to see a dozen packs of cup noodles. "I don't recall this being on the menu," Goro said with a confused smile.

Sojiro sighed. "Futaba asked for noodles. She must have stayed up late last night, so now she's sleeping like the dead, and I have all these noodles."

"I'd like some!" said Ann. The others nodded too, while Yusuke was busy starting on his second plate of curry. Ann stared at him in concern. "Do you, like, eat? Normally?"

Yusuke tilted his head. "Of course. I was simply… consumed by a certain piece all day. I suppose that's taking its toll on me now." Then he proceeded to wiping his plate clean. "Thank you for the meal. It was… a little sweeter than usual."

"Ah. Too much honey," Akechi admitted.

"Compliments to the chef, nonetheless," said Yusuke. He was smiling, which hopefully meant that he was a bit open to seeing Goro alive.

"Alright, how about I prepare some noodles for you and you all go up to Akira's room to wait? Free of charge, of course," Sojiro said. He only smiled as they cheered and picked up their bags. "Now move it; my actual paying customers might arrive."

"Hey, we're paying!" Ryuji piped up. " _Right,_ Yusuke?"

"I am a man of my word," Yusuke said with a scoff. They all went upstairs, bringing the chatter and noise with them. Ann hung back for a bit, looking like she wanted to say something, but she just smiled at Goro and caught up with the others.

Sojiro handed Goro a pot and four packs. "Heat the water, pour it into the cups, and don't forget to bring the tray downstairs when you're all done."

Goro counted the cups again. "I think this is too much, unless noodles are okay for a cat's diet…?"

Sojiro gave him his usual understanding smile. "Join them." Goro stared at him. "I'm serious. You're young; you need friends."

Goro snorted and started heating water as Sojiro instructed. Meanwhile, Sojiro sighed as Goro still refused to open the extra pack of noodles. "You know, you've caused less trouble in your first month here than Akira did in his first week." Sojiro chuckled. "That means at least you're not a bad kid. Give yourself a fighting chance and just talk to them. You've done some awful things," Sojiro's tone was sharp, "but at least try to surround yourself with good people."

"Easier said than done," Goro murmured, but he opened the extra pack just to satisfy Sojiro. He prepared them silently, but that was mostly to cover up his nerves.

Wait. _Nerves?_ Was he nervous because he knew that he could never fully gain acceptance from a group of nobodies? He was _Akechi Goro,_ for goodness' sake; he didn't need anything from a group of lowlifes who—

But that wasn't him anymore. That was the thought process of the Akechi Goro from months ago, the one who could barely stand existing in this world. He saw everyone and everything as scum, even himself.

Goro could barely stand recalling how he was then. Saying he was a different person wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a lie either. Though he could imagine being that way and thinking like that again, he wouldn't want to. He just wanted to put it past him.

Maybe— _hopefully,_ the rowdy teenagers that he silently approached would see that. Goro served their bowls silently, and Yusuke was the only one to take notice of how he awkwardly held the last bowl in his hand, serving it to no one.

"Come sit," Yusuke said quietly. Goro took the chair beside him and listened to their conversation.

At that point, Goro remembered something. Past the self-pity and defense mechanisms that he used to cloud his memories and to create his own narratives, he saw the rest of the Phantom Thieves in a different light during their last moments together in Shido's palace.

They weren't just trying to reason with him; they were _reaching out_ to him. They pleaded with him, not to gain him as an ally in combat or to prevent another fruitless battle, but to hold on to the goodness in him that was still salvageable. Goro lashed out because he didn't want to believe that what they saw in him was real. He was the son of a monster, someone who committed such awful crimes and was righteous while wearing the mask of a good person. He deserved to die—he knew that—but he wasn't going down before dragging them with him.

He regretted that now, especially as he sat among them again, laughing at Ryuji and Morgana's antics and Yusuke's oddities. They tried to engage with him sometimes, but conversation easily died down whenever it involved Goro. Still, their noodles were almost cold by the time they all finished, too busy with Morgana's dramatic recollection of that one time they let Ryuji drive the Mona bus and he nearly crashed it on the platform when he stepped on the gas instead of the brakes.

Goro laughed. "That sounds like something you would _accidentally_ do for revenge."

"Well…" Ryuji trailed off as they all burst into laughter again. He leaned his elbow on the table and used the other hand to pet Morgana's torso. "Eh, it's all good now. Soon enough, we won't be hearing from this freaky cat anymore."

"That's right," said Haru. "Akira's going to be taking you with him when he leaves."

That left them in quiet contemplation for a while. They realized as they sat there that none of them would have been connected like this without Akira coming to Tokyo. Now that he was about to leave, they couldn't imagine not seeing him anymore, but they also couldn't imagine not sticking together anyway.

"Hey," Ann faced Goro, "aren't you living with Akira right now?"

Goro nodded, pensive for a moment. "Yeah, I am."

"What's your plan when he goes?" asked Ryuji. Suddenly, the center of attention was on Goro.

Goro realized that he never actually thought about it before. "I don't want to impose on boss by still living here," he started, "but I guess I'll have to find a place and work so I can live alone."

"That sounds…" Haru hummed, _"sad."_

Goro sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Not really. I didn't have a plan when I came here, and I don't think I ever planned on staying here permanently."

That was a lie. At some point, maybe in one of the recent mornings when he would wake up because of Akira's hair tickling his arm or the rays of sun hitting his eyes from his spot beside Akira on the bed, he couldn't imagine not waking up like that every single day for as long as Akira would have him. It was stupid and idealistic, but when prompted to think about a life without that, he understood what Haru meant by it being _sad._ It was.

Unfortunately, the time was coming. _Stupid, stupid Akechi. You never think things through._

Makoto inhaled deeply. "Enough of that. We all agree that life without Akira is going to be a lot more boring, huh?"

"Ugh, it's going to suck," Ryuji complained. "Who am I going to bug in the middle of class?"

"Um, maybe you should stop spamming the group chat and start listening," Ann murmured.

"I hate to ask, but you'll still invite me out even if I'm in a different school, right?" Yusuke asked tentatively.

Ryuji smacked his arm. "Of course, dude! What are you talking about?"

"And you'll still talk to us even if we're in university?" Haru asked while leaning on Makoto.

"Maybe if you don't think you're _too cool_ to hang out with your high school friends," Ann said haughtily, but she just giggled as Makoto and Haru shot her a disapproving look.

"And you," Makoto looked at Goro directly, "don't hesitate to actually talk to us. You're going to go through a rough patch in life alone, and it's never bad to have some people on your side."

"I…" Goro looked at all of them: Makoto with her earnest smile; Ann, Ryuji, and Morgana messing around but still smiling at him; Yusuke beside him, body language comfortable and face serene; and Haru, still emotionless, but without the hard edge in her stare.

 _Some people. That's enough for me._ "Thank you."

Ryuji suddenly got a message. "Oh crap, my mom's coming home. I have to go."

"If you're going, I'll catch the train with you," Ann said as she picked up her bag. They all started packing up together. "Well, thanks for the food, Akechi."

"We will see you soon," said Yusuke, and then they all left.

Goro was stuck with the mess that they left behind, but he didn't mind the work. It gave him time to think while his body moved automatically. When he was finished with the dishes downstairs, Sojiro stopped him before he went up again.

"Good talk?" Sojiro asked, a knowing smile on his face.

"Good talk," said Goro, returning the smile then walking back upstairs.

———

Goro stared at his backpack for the longest time. It was late at night, and Akira still wasn't home, probably working a part-time job at Crossroads. It occurred to Goro that if he wanted to run, this would be the perfect time.

It was stupid. Their conversation earlier really stuck with him. What was he going to do when Akira left? He couldn't come with him; he barely had a future in Tokyo, and a foreign city would be even less friendly to a kid like him. Staying in Leblanc was embarrassing; he was only here because Akira was too damn hospitable for his own good. Could he go back to the streets? Were those really his only options?

A part of him wanted to run now because he wanted to beat Akira to the punch. It was easier for him to leave hesitantly but voluntarily instead of being backed into a corner where Akira had to be the one telling him, _"It's over."_ He… wasn't about to face that kind of rejection.

Goro felt sick as he held his bag in his hands, still sitting on the couch unable to move. When he thought he made up his mind, Morgana suddenly went upstairs and leapt on the couch beside him.

"What are you doing?" Morgana asked. He looked at Goro's pained expression, the bag, and back at Goro's face. "You're not thinking of running again, are you?"

"They were right, Morgana. I don't have a plan when Akira leaves. I might as well just… go." Goro dropped his bag and buried his face in his hands. This was a _mess._

"Are you stupid?" Morgana said, placing his paws on Goro's thigh. "You're going to break Akira's heart— for what? Avoiding something that you should actually talk about?" Morgana forced Goro to look at his eyes. "What would you do if he still wanted you in his life?"

Goro groaned and leaned back until his head hit the wall. "Ugh, why am I taking advice from a cat?"

"I'm not a cat! Also," Morgana swiped at his arm, "you really have to stop thinking that running is your first and only option."

"You're right," Goro mumbled, though it pained him to say it. "You're right."

From the very beginning, Akira was right about him. He never thought things through. He played right into his father's hands, he attempted to kill the Phantom Thieves without properly weighing the odds, he became the lapdog of a group of thugs without thinking of the long-term consequences of his actions, and he walked straight into… _something_ with the only person who had ever truly seen past his defenses.

He never thought that asking for help—just for once—would lead to him facing his own demons, gaining acceptance from people he seriously wronged, and attempting to start a better life, _a good life._

Much later that night, Goro felt a warm body crawling into bed beside him and turned to smile at Akira sleepy face. "So tired," Akira whined.

"Have you taken a bath?" Goro mumbled, half-asleep.

"No, I just got here and dropped my bag. I'm almost too tired to cross the street," said Akira. Goro chuckled beside him.

"Do it. You might get sick if you don't." Goro reached out blindly to stroke his hand. "I'll wait up for you."

Akira shook his head. "No, you shouldn't. I'll be back in a while."

As Akira went to his box of clothes, the envelope he had hidden since last night caught his eye. Maybe it was time to ask Goro if he wanted this as much as Akira did. "Hey, there's been something on my mind for a while—"

Akira stopped when he turned around and saw Goro sleeping peacefully, lightly snoring by the looks of it. He smiled and leaned back against the shelf. Akira admired the way his hair covered parts of his face, making his nose twitch as the ends brushed his nostrils with each deep breath. He appreciated how Goro left a huge space on his small bed—even in his sleep—so that they would fit just right in the small mattress.

_I'll ask you soon, I promise._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello there~ this is the penultimate chapter ;;; can u believe it's almost over?  
> tbh i found it difficult to write the other characters' reactions to akechi. i hope it makes sense that his expectations of their stoning him to death when they first see him was just him projecting his own self-hatred on people who actually tried their best to understand him ;;  
> thank you to everyone who has supported this fic so far!! i hope you'll stick around for the last one <3  
> (pls talk to me on [tumblr](http://amenochieienn.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/amenochieien/)!!)


	8. 03/19 - 03/20

** 03/19 – 03/20 **

Morgana yelled as the swan boat figure fell on the floor and crashed into large pieces. He slowly withdrew his paw and stepped back from the edge of the shelf. "Uh, sorry?"

Akira sighed and reached out to scratch Morgana. "It's okay. It was an ugly boat, and I get that your cat instincts—"

"I'm not a cat!" Morgana exclaimed before hopping off the shelf and jumping to the windowsill. Akira chuckled and wiped the dust sitting on the shelves.

"Hey," he turned slightly to Goro, "could you get a broom and sweep that up? Thanks."

"Sure," Goro said. He swept it up quickly, but he paused as he carefully dropped the pieces into the bin full of Akira's memorabilia from his one-year stay in Tokyo. As much as he wanted to keep everything, there were too many souvenirs and stupid trinkets that he refused to toss away and he had to compromise on most.

Goro looked back at Akira who was laughing with Morgana as he cleaned up the little attic for the last time. Goro could imagine Akira coming home with a ridiculous memento stashed in his bag, dropping unceremoniously on his bed as he wrote down the details of his day in his journal, as he always did. His life in Tokyo was meant to be a lesson, a boring routine used to drill obedience in him, but he came out of it with so much more.

A part of Goro resented him for that. And yet… he could only smile as Akira waved Morgana out of the window and collapsed on his bed, going through his entries again. Goro lied down beside him, pulling him close and stroking his hair softly while he read on his phone. Akira tossed his journal into the bin and turned his body fully towards Goro.

"Hmm? Don't you still need that?" Goro asked as he continued running his fingers through Akira's hair.

Akira chuckled. "I'm free now."

"Good for you," Goro whispered, but they both stiffened when they realized he said it out loud. Akira shifted away, the envelope shoved in his bag right in his peripheral vision.

Goro sat up, hugging his knees to his chest. "I didn't mean to say it that way."

"I know," Akira said, "but it's good that you did. I… have a question."

Goro snorted. _Not another session of twenty questions._ "Shoot."

"Do you want to move with me?"

Goro paused. "What."

Akira smiled, taking the envelope from his bag and going through the contents. "I, uh, found a way to enroll you in Okina University. The semester starts on April 3, if you want to… come with me."

Goro took the envelope from him, scanning through the documents which proved that, _yes,_ Akechi Goro could have a future. Yes, he could move to a new city and study something interesting and world-changing in a good university, working to earn his keep and living with someone who was simultaneously wonderful and also _infuriatingly_ too good for him.

It was perfect. Akechi didn't know if he could keep up with that.

"When did you have time to do this? And how?" Goro looked up at Akira. The documents were all valid. This was _real._ This could really happen.

"Well," Akira rubbed the back of his neck, "I asked help from Sae."

"Of course," Goro said, smiling slightly. He would have to thank her one day, if they ever had the chance to meet again. _But still…_ "Why did you do it? You didn't have to go to such great lengths to ask me to come with you."

That shocked Akira just a bit. If he asked, in the middle of dinner or while watching TV, Goro would have just shrugged, kissed him on the cheek, and started looking for opportunities on the internet right away. It could have been that easy, but Akira found it difficult to think that someone would uproot their life that easily for him, no matter how dark and difficult it had been.

"Tokyo has never been a good place for you," Akira said softly. "Bad memories, awful people; I don't think staying here would change your life the way you want it to."

Goro's face dropped. "Are you saying I wouldn't have a future without your help?"

Akira's brows furrowed. "That's not what I meant—"

"But it's what you said, isn't it?" Goro huffed, eyes narrowing. "It's also what you mean; don't deny it."

"I—" Akira hesitated on the right thing to say. "I just wanted to help you, to fix things—"

Goro chuckled without mirth, another trademark from his past behavior. "We talked about this. My problems, my issues, _my life—_ is not for you to _fix_."

Akira clenched his fists, knowing what would come next. "You know what? _Fine._ "

Goro's blood froze. "So you're done. Just like that."

"What?" Akira sat down beside him, shaking his head. "No way. You think I'd give up on you?"

Goro snorted. "That's difficult to imagine, knowing how stubborn you are."

"It's good that you know," Akira said softly, glad to see Goro's smile again. "I'll change my approach. I'll admit it now: I didn't do that for you."

They leaned against the wall, hands on the bed not touching but still close enough to easily reach out to. "Why then?" Goro turned his head.

Akira met his eyes. _"I need you."_

He held Goro's hand gently, tracing the light scars that he had memorized by now. "I don't want to be alone— alone with _Morgana,_ come on." They both laughed, and Goro linked his fingers with Akira's, still not breaking eye contact. "I—

"I think it's stupid, everything that's happened to us. Before we met, after we met, after everything… we were _literally_ being played with by the gods," Akira smiled, "but we made it out, didn't we? It's going to be so difficult to find someone with shared life experiences from now on. Can you imagine going on a date and saying, 'oh yeah, I shot a _god_ when I was sixteen'?"

"So," Goro raised an eyebrow, "you think about going on dates with people who don't know that crap about you?"

Akira groaned and leaned back against the wall. "Uh, I _hope_ I never have to." They laughed, but when Goro looked at Akira again, he saw him softly biting his bottom lip, smiling through his eyes. "I meant that, in all the ways I could mean it."

Goro leaned forward and kissed Akira with a hand behind his neck and the other still holding Akira's other hand on the bed. Akira sighed when they pulled away and he squeezed tightly before Goro let go. "So?"

Goro mulled over his words for a while, and then he stood up and took his bag from the floor. "I… have a shift to go to. Business to take care of."

Akira struggled to keep the smile on his face. "Oh."

Goro cupped Akira's cheek. He smiled. Something about it made Akira unable to smile back.

As he was about to descend the stairs, Goro gripped the banister. He looked back at Akira and smiled softly. "I just— goodbye."

Akira waved as he left, but he wasn't sure if he just heard their last goodbye.

———

Goro didn't come back that night.

———

Akira sat on the couch with Morgana purring against his chest until he finally gave up and dropped his phone. Morgana pawed at his cheek and rubbed his head against Akira's neck.  Akira put him down, glancing at his phone and realizing that there was no point in hoping Goro would respond. Morgana still pushed his head under Akira's hand. "Stop marking me, cat."

"Come on, Akira," Morgana said. Akira shook his head, wanting to reach out to his bag and just go. The sheer weight of his memories held him down on the couch, and the gutting loss of Goro's presence tied him to his phone. If he waits, just a little longer, maybe he'll get a call or hear the door of Leblanc opening and Goro would be there—

"We need to go," Morgana reminded him. Akira recalled the past two days and all the people he spoke to for the last time. He wished Chihaya luck and promised to support Yoshida and messed around with Shinya one last time. Sojiro teared up as Akira helped him close up shop one last time, and Mishima sent him a dumb photo edit of them for helping him with all of his issues, even if he was a jerk at some point. Akira thanked Takemi for all the times she saved his ass, thanked Kawakami for her persistence in letting him continue his education, and thanked Sae for everything— _everything._

He was going to leave everyone. At some point, he came to terms with it when he thought he'd have more than Morgana to take with him, someone else to remind him of his worth to other people, something he never felt when he used to live in Okina. Now that person was probably _gone,_ spooked by Akira taking his life from his hands. Offended too, probably.

 _"Akira,"_ Morgana warned. He hopped on Akira's lap and forced him to look up. "Remember what you said that first night? You'd let him live his life."

Akira's heart dropped. "I know."

"And you even said that if he ran away without notice three times, you wouldn't take him back anymore," said Morgana. He snickered. "Will you still honor that?"

Akira smiled, despite himself. "I don't think I can."

Morgana purred as Akira scratched right under his jaw. Akira looked around his room one more time, taking in the sight of the clean attic before dust would gather on every surface again and Sojiro would start tossing random boxes up here and it would stop being Akira's room and just be… Leblanc's attic again.

"Let's go," Akira whispered. He placed Morgana in his bag and grabbed everything he was going to bring. Before he went down, he left his glasses on the table, hoping that Sojiro wouldn't crush it under a box or something. He was going to leave that façade behind.

Sojiro was waiting downstairs, a cup of coffee on the counter. "Are you sure you don't want to have breakfast here?"

Akira chuckled. "Don't worry; I'm sure Ryuji bought too many snacks for the road. We'll be good."

"Alright then. Hey—" Sojiro said, something soft in his voice, but he simply shook his head. "If I hear word of my curry going around Okina, I'm suing you."

Akira laughed then, sitting down on a stool and enjoying his cup. "I'll keep it just as a family recipe, I promise."

"'Family', huh?" Sojiro took off his glasses and wiped at his eyes. "Well, you should go on ahead. I'm sure your friends are waiting for you."

"Yeah, okay." Akira grabbed his bags again and walked up to the door. "Hey Sojiro," he turned his head, "thank you for giving me a chance."

Sojiro smiled and waved him away before Akira could see him tear up again.

———

"Come on, pick up, pick up—" Ann immediately shoved her phone in her pocket. " _Akira!_ You're here!"

Akira raised an eyebrow at her awfully high-pitched voiced and shifty eyes. "Sorry, I was a little late?"

"Oh yeah, it's fine!" She grinned. Akira looked at her phone.

"Were you trying to contact me?"

She shook her head repeatedly. "No, no, no. Um, I just— I—" she drew out the syllable, "I was calling my agent! I have a photoshoot scheduled tomorrow and I forgot to ask him to look for a replacement!"

Makoto popped out from behind the van and placed a hand on Ann's shoulder. "Hey Akira. Speaking of replacement, Morgana, weren't you a bus once? Can you take a look at our car and see what's wrong with it?" She had a stiff smile on her face. Morgana hopped out from inside Akira's bag and made his way to the front of the van.

Akira slid the door open and took a seat beside Yusuke, who was already starting on Ryuji's bag of snacks. "Are you ready to say goodbye?" he asked.

Akira sighed. "I guess I am," he mumbled as he opened his phone again. _Nothing._ It felt wrong to be sitting here, with a group of friends that he loved, without someone that he— someone he wanted to be with. That's it.

From his seat, Akira could see Makoto and Ann fumbling with their phones while Ryuji was standing out there and looking around. Akira couldn't claim to know anything about cars, so he let the experts handle it.

After a few minutes, they all came in with blank expressions and a heavy cloud over their heads. "I fixed it," Morgana said softly, climbing his way onto Akira's lap. "We should go."

"Yeah," Ryuji said. His fist was clenched on his lap, and Akira looked at him in concern. Ryuji managed to put up his usual devious grin and punched Akira on the shoulder. "Come on; time to celebrate your freedom!"

_Freedom?_

Ann sighed, looked up from her phone, and smiled at Akira from the passenger's seat. "He's right. Makoto, start it up!"

Haru and Futaba cheered, while Makoto chuckled as she plugged the key into the ignition. Before she could turn the key, their celebration was cut short by someone knocking on Ann's window, and Akira didn't even see them all smile when Ann rolled the window down.

_No way—_

"Hello there—" _a huff, probably from running too fast,_ "I'm sorry to disrupt, but is there room for one more?"

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

_"Hi. I know I haven't been here since— what? My third foster family? You probably forgot you even had a son because he's awful and is nothing like the boy you left behind. But… I'm here, mom. I'm alive._

_"I'm sorry I couldn't bring you anything. I don't have much to offer. If you've really been watching over me, you'd know that I've been in too much trouble for a kid my age. I don't know if you could have expected that from the short time that you took care of me, and I—" he grit his teeth. "Sometimes I still hate you for dying._

_"It's stupid. I'm sorry for thinking that way. You fell for scum like Shido, and I had to follow in his footsteps, thinking that I was making a difference somehow. I was, but in the worst way possible. I hate it._

_"I— I hate myself for doing it. I can't look back without wishing that I died in one of those errands. I wish I died in his palace. I wish I didn't have to live now with the guilt of every person I had a hand in killing." He sighed and dug his nails into his palm. "I don't know why I'm still here, but I've been_ so alone, _mom. Ever since you left._

_"Now I'm being given a chance. No matter how much he tries, sometimes it's still difficult for me to think that I deserve it in the first place. I should be grateful, I should accept opportunities whenever I can get them… but I can't erase the red in my ledger. As much as I want to redeem myself, can anything I do from now on somehow make everything I've done disappear? At least from my conscience?"_

_He chuckled. "That's something he would tell me. Mom, you_ have _to meet him. He's… the first person in a long time to even try and look at me differently. He won't give up on me, and it's almost frustrating."_ _He smiled to himself. "He won't give up, even if I already have._

_"And he's… like me. He doesn't trust the world, but he trusts me. He puts on this stupid front to make people believe that he's a perfect doll, but only I get to see him break. I know everything good and bad about him, but I don't know if he's really ready to see all of me. Should I trust him, mom? Should I go?"_

_After a long time, his knees ached at the weight of his body. He stood up and bowed at the altar again. "I… I won't see you for a while, mom. Thank you for listening. I promise—to_ you _—that I won't waste this. I'm making a choice, mom. I'm taking my life back, so now I guess… I'm coming with him."_

 

 

 

———

 

 

 

** 04/10 – 04/11 **

Akira toed off his shoes and dropped his bag on the couch. When he looked up at the watch, it was exactly midnight. At least he made it. When he walked into the bedroom, he crashed on the bed. Unfortunately, he fell on the wrong side.

"Ow," Goro mumbled as he pushed Akira off him. Akira chuckled and rolled to his side of the bed. Goro smiled, eyes still closed but facing Akira. "You just got home? What time is it?"

"Yeah," Akira said, "a little after midnight."

Akira went under the covers and wrapped himself around Goro. He laughed when Goro crinkled his nose as he kissed Akira's forehead. "You stink. What were you doing today? Wait— it's Monday." Goro kicked him away. "You're on trash duty in the restaurant!"

Akira laughed even harder, rolling away until only their hands made contact under the blankets. Goro had his eyes open now, and he was still smiling at Akira. "How was your day?" Akira asked while Goro was lucid enough to answer.

Goro groaned. "You know that annoying guy I met during orientation?" Akira nodded. "He's in my introduction to sociology class, and he picked the seat beside me. He won't even shut up."

Akira chuckled. "Sounds like you're making friends." His eyes narrowed. "Should I be jealous?"

Goro snorted and hit him on the head. "Don't be stupid." They stared at each other for a while, and Goro yawned. He reached out, stroked Akira's cheek softly, and turned to lie on his back. "Alright, I'm going to sleep. Go take a shower, _please._ "

Akira grinned. "Will do, sir."

"Oh, by the way," Goro yawned again, "I left some dinner in the microwave. You can heat it up if you're hungry."

Akira thought about that moment in the van, right before Makoto started the car, when Akira was contemplating on a life without Goro. He thought about the emptiness of the apartment as soon as his friends left, but it was replaced with the sound of the TV always being on the news or the frying pan with sizzling oil that Goro always tried to avoid when he cooked. He thought about the day he and Goro went out to buy groceries; as soon as they heard people whispering about Akira, Goro made it a point to defend him the moment the old housewives started talking about him like he was dirt.

He thought about the night that Goro sat in front of Leblanc in the dead cold of winter, and Akira's first thought was no matter how strange their situation was, he would take his time with Akechi and find a way to fix whatever was wrong.

Akira didn't fix Goro, no, but they both realized what needed fixing in themselves.

Akira swung his leg over Goro's hips and leaned forward to kiss him. Goro's hands immediately went to his sides and slid up Akira's back. Akira pulled back with both hands beside Goro's head, and he grinned as he saw Goro wide awake.

"I love you too," Akira whispered. Goro just smiled. He kissed Goro's forehead as they both laughed. "I'll take a shower."

"And I'll wait up for you," Goro said, leaving a promise in the form of a kiss against Akira's wrist.

In the end, Goro fell asleep before Akira even turned off the showerhead. Akira chuckled, crawled into bed, and wrapped himself around Goro's chest again. Goro hummed in his sleep, aware enough to place an arm over Akira's waist. And then they fell asleep.

Fortunately for them, their dreams didn't have to end when they woke up.

 

_fin._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, that's it. (this is going to be long so pls bear with me)  
> this was my first fic outside of my previous main fandom in a long time, and the reception and feedback i got for this is more than anything i've attained in the past 4 years. it's the most satisfying (?) feeling to know that people like what i've written and support my writing!!! i still have a lot of ideas and a lot more fics that i want to contribute to the fandom, so i hope that you all anticipate whatever stupid au that i'm about to start on hahaha  
> i'm afraid of not being able to publish content frequently and of high-quality because i will be starting my senior year of high school in less than a month TT please forgive me in advance ;;  
> i will do my best to continue writing these two, hopefully giving justice to what canon has provided for us to work with and also to reinvent them so that they feel more like real people with real emotions!!
> 
> for now, it's time to say goodbye to this fic ;; please leave comments to make me know how to improve my writing, especially for 2 quite complex characters TT  
> if you want to know what i'm up to (or to discuss things about this fic!), follow me on [tumblr](http://amenochieienn.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](http://twitter.com/amenochieien/)!! i love meeting people, sharing headcanons, and crying over the greatness of this game so please do hit me up!!!!
> 
> goodbye! ☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ  
> \- junfhongs (francine)
> 
> P.S: HAPPY 6/2 GORO DAY TO EVERYONE!!! i'm glad to have written this in time (at least in my timezone lol)


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